


Adrenalize Me

by LightningStriking



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Rogers, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, But Steve IS A Vampire So Yeah, Dom/sub Undertones, Frottage, Happy Ending, Human Bucky Barnes, I can't help myself, I've Taken Liberties With Vampire Lore, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nightmares, Not Exactly Blood Kink, Please Just Roll With It, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Protective Steve Rogers, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Stucky - Freeform, Switching, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Vampire Steve Rogers, all the feels, sub space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 58,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningStriking/pseuds/LightningStriking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leaning against the side of a wall, taking an indolent drag of a cigarette, there he stood.  Watching Bucky with an inscrutable gaze.  Staring at Bucky for long seconds, the blond seemed to consider him before breaking the silence.  “You know, nice guy like you walking alone at this hour – people might think you were looking for trouble.”<br/>Trying not to shudder at the sound of that voice, which wrapped around him like smoke, Bucky managed a smirk, lifted a brow.  “Well, if I was, it looks like I found it.”</p><p>Two strangers meet in a dark club.  One just happens to be a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovely readers! I know, I know, another work in progress when I haven't finished the last one?? Shame on me. But truly, it couldn't be helped. While enjoying the ever incredible band, In This Moment, and listening to the song Adrenalize Me, from which this story takes it's name, I was suddenly envisioning a very sexy Stucky music video. Described it to my friend, and before you know it, there was nothing for it but to start writing this smutty supernatural bonanza. The vampire AU no one asked for, but I'm writing anyways! I definitely took liberties with vampire lore, to suit my own purposes, so please excuse any inaccuracies.
> 
> I dedicate this the marvelous Cukimonstaaa, for helping inspire this story, and being my genius beta. 
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoy my story, and strongly encourage you to listen to the song to properly set the mood :)

The gaze drifting along his body was such a physical force, he felt as though fingers were skimming across his neck. Setting down the empty shot glass, Bucky licked the taste of vodka from his lips even as he turned, irresistibly searching for the source of the sensation gliding over him like a caress. He took in the crush of people packed inside the nightclub, strobe lights cutting through the darkness, illuminating bodies writhing to the music pounding so loudly through the space it was a second heartbeat, frantic and throbbing.

            And there he was. A stare meeting his from across the room, a stranger leaning against the far wall. The distance was too great to make out any features, yet there was no doubt in Bucky’s mind that was the gaze that had stroked over him, as it even now compelled him closer.

            All thoughts of wondering why he was here drinking alcohol alone in a crowd of people, acceptance that even music this loud couldn’t drown out the thoughts that kept him from rest, and a biting urge to just leave, evaporated. Bucky moved forward, oblivious to the bodies that collided with his as he cut through the mob, almost uncontrollably stepping closer to the man who had shoved away from the wall, advancing smoothly, somehow avoiding any contact from the intoxicated dancers around him. Until he was there, right there in front of Bucky, and the light slicing through the shadows illuminated in bursts the most unbelievably sexy individual Bucky had ever seen in his life.

            Dark blond hair, jawline as sharp as a blade, an intensely masculine face softened by almost ridiculously lush lips. Though only a few inches taller than Bucky, the stranger was ripped, the biceps on incredible arms threatening to rip the sleeves of the deceptively simple black V-neck tee, the tight garment revealing a built chest that tapered down into a narrow waist, the sheer size of the man making Bucky’s own heavily muscled frame look almost lean in comparison. Yet it was the eyes that caught and held Bucky’s own, a blue so sharp and penetrating, at this non-existent distance it was no longer fingers skimming over his skin, but rather a rough, demanding hand grasping everywhere those eyes settled.

 _Yes_ , everything within Bucky breathed. Forgetting his own disgust at himself for coming to the nightclub with the intention to find a casual fuck to help him sleep tonight, forgetting the weariness he’d felt upon arriving when seriously considering that he didn’t have it in him anymore to forget himself with a stranger for a few hours. Forgetting anything but the all-consuming craving he felt now to be only closer to this man.

            The deafening bass throbbing made it impossible to say anything. But staring into that gaze which only grew more heated as it lingered upon him, Bucky knew he had other ways he could make his wants heard. Reaching out, laying a hand upon a narrow hip, he tugged, a sly smirk curling his own lips. He nearly moaned at the resulting smile, Mr. Tall Blond and Dead Sexy smiling back, grabbing Bucky’s waist in turn and jerking him forward until they were instantly and intimately pressing together. Grip tightening just short of painful, Bucky bit at his bottom lip, nearly shivering at the way those blue eyes zeroed in on the bright red of his mouth, and began to move.

            Together, they danced, their moves nothing short of filthy as hips rolled against each other, breath catching in aching lungs when the stranger’s hands followed through on the promise of his gaze, skimming lightly over Bucky’s chest, down his sides, over the strong muscles of his back. Turning in the embrace which was nowhere tight enough, Bucky grinded his ass against the blond, glorying in the broken groan that spilled into his ear, the sound so fucking gorgeous Bucky felt it licking all the way down his spine. Letting his head fall back on the stranger’s broad shoulder, Bucky didn’t even try to hold back the moan pouring out of him when he was pulled harder against the unmistakable outline of a hot, hard cock, that beautiful mouth descending to Bucky’s neck. He jerked when those lips parted to lick and suck at him teasingly, wondered briefly if he would come from that mouth upon his skin alone. Wondered if he cared.

            Fuck, he was on fire, every other thought burning away as their dancing devolved into greedy grinding, both men desperate, demanding for more. Bucky felt that tongue lap at him once more, before teeth dragged teasingly along the sensitive skin where neck met shoulder. Unexpectedly sharp teeth. Jolting, even as the fire inside him blazed impossibly hotter, Bucky’s eyes snapped open. Pulling just far enough away to turn and meet the gaze that had gone black, Bucky felt his heart skip a beat. Then return so strongly, he could no longer hear the throb of the music over the beating of his laboring organ, nearly smothered between lungs heaving for air.

            The stranger fell still save his own harsh, nearly tortured breathing, his eyes wide. Nearly wary, as Bucky turned in his suddenly lax hands, the better to see the way the irises of his eyes had been completely swallowed, no hint of blue remaining in the gaze that was pure ebony. To see the tips of the teeth glinting between parted, gasping lips. The _fangs_ that had moments earlier been dragging over Bucky’s pulse.

            It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t reasonable. It was simply pure instinct, pure _need_ that had Bucky wrapping a hand around the back of the blond’s neck, fingers tangling in silky soft hair, then pulling him forward. Until lips collided, and he took advantage of the stranger’s surprise to sweep straight into that mouth. Bucky drank in the unbelievable, exotic taste of him, carefully gliding his tongue along one of those unearthly fangs. He swallowed the wrecked sound the other man issued before his hands grew frantic once more, hand sweeping beneath Bucky’s shirt, fingers digging painfully into muscle.

 _More_ , Bucky’s body demanded, and to deny it was unthinkable. Not adverse to going up in flame precisely where he stood, but needing so much more than their current location would accommodate, he managed to pull back from that mouth attempting to devour him whole. Bucky panted wildly as he met that black gaze, before launching into action.   Grabbing one of those arousing, powerful hands in his own, Bucky tugged the willing stranger, fighting his way through the crowd, almost rough in his desperation, yet no one noticed or cared.

            Finally making it to the back exit, hoping it wasn’t triggered to sound an alarm when he shoved it opened, Bucky only had a moment to say a prayer of thanks as they made it out without a shrill siren splitting the air. Before he was summarily shoved against the brick wall of the building, the alley they’d stumbled into empty of anything but shimmering moonlight that turned the stranger’s hair a shining silver in the beams. And then all of Bucky’s prayers were of thanks for the mouth back upon his trembling body, licking and sucking feverishly along Bucky’s neck.

            Head falling back, Bucky wrapped his arms around the stranger’s neck, arching so he could roll his hips against him, the feel of his denim-clad dick dragging along the gorgeous length of the other man’s cock nearly sending him over the edge. He gasped in shocked delight when hands ran over his ass, then unexpectedly lifted, sliding Bucky up the wall until he could wrap his legs around that narrow waist. Then the blond was grinding against him in earnest, the friction making Bucky shudder, hand raising to tug at messy strands. “Fuck,” Bucky groaned out in a trembling voice, felt the responding jerk in the body surrounding him, taking him over. And that seemed to be all the encouragement the man needed to lick hotly over Bucky’s pulse once more, before teeth sank deep.

            Bucky cried out, his voice hoarse as he came hard, cock pulsing at the instant of pain which was immediately chased away by fire burning through this veins, every strong pull of that mouth on his neck sending ecstasy crashing through him, his release never ending. Riding it out, legs tightening convulsively, Bucky was dimly aware of the tongue gliding over his skin one last time before the stranger pressed his face to Bucky’s shoulder, hips stuttering, as he cried out his own release in a completely wrecked voice.

            Panting wildly, heart pounding violently, Bucky kept his eyes closed as he simply tried to re-master the mechanics of breathing in, breathing out. Long minutes pass, lingering aftershocks of pleasure surging through him, until he felt the head lift from his shoulder, warm breath whispering across his cheek before that mouth settled on his once more. Blindly meeting those lips, Bucky weakly returned the kiss, slowly stroking their tongues together, vaguely noting the fangs had retracted, leaving even white teeth in their place.

            Lashes lifting unwillingly only when he felt the hands still vised across his ass slide along his thighs, gently unwinding them until the blond slowly slid Bucky back to his own feet. The stranger kept those incredible hands on Bucky’s hips as he swayed, holding him up until Bucky was steady once more. Then he pulled back leisurely, those eyes roved over Bucky’s features. Seeming to memorize each one, before he smiled softly, lifting one hand to rub a thumb over the fullness of Bucky’s bottom lip, whose mouth parted in instant reaction, he stared at it before meeting Bucky’s gaze once more. “Thanks,” he said softly, and Bucky realized it was the first word he’d heard the man speak. But before he could reply, express his own heartfelt gratitude, ask for a name, a number, _anything_ , the stranger stepped back. And disappeared into the dark. Leaving Bucky alone, panting, wondering what the hell had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

The street was empty as his feet carried him over the cracked pavement. The city dark, nearly quiet, an unheard of occurrence in New York City. Yet as Bucky traveled deeper into the night, practically begging to be mugged and murdered as he strode along, hands shoved in pockets searching for warmth, the sound of his own feet his only company, there was no one to be seen. He would think that was unusual, to say the least. Yet when everything about the last week was unusual, he felt nothing would surprise him now. This was not a normal Friday.

            Christ, he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. What he’d done. What had been done _to_ him. Reflecting on it now, as he had obsessively, compulsively, ever since the blond stranger had melted into the night, Bucky remembered all too clearly how dazed he’d been. Body still trembling from aftershocks of the most intense ecstasy he’d ever experienced, he had no idea how long it had taken him to pull himself together enough to realize he was standing alone, in an alley way, with a cooling mess inside his pants from the best orgasm he’d had in his _life_. Tugging his shirt down, he’d managed to stumble his way home, and into his shower. Yet rather than washing away the sensations still lingering, the feel of the water beating down upon his skin only had him shuddering once more. _Jesus_.

            Finally pulling himself out of the shower as a strange lethargy came over him, he’d felt the first stirrings of alarm. Then rolled his eyes at his own idiocy. “It’s from blood loss, you ass,” he muttered in annoyance. Before catching sight of himself in the slightly fogged mirror, and instantly leaned closer to inspect the mark on his neck. It had the classic appearance of a hickey, yet he could just make out the two pinpricks in the center of the bruise. Bracing himself on the sink, Bucky stared at it. Before breaking out into laughter edging closer to hysterical than was comfortable, but he was too far gone to care. He’d been bitten. By a _vampire_.

            Dragging himself to his bed, managing to burrow beneath the blankets before his energy was completely expended, he expected to fall immediately into sleep. Yet instead Bucky lay awake for hours. Remembering. Body trying to react to the sensual memories. By the time morning had rolled around, he’d been a mass of exhausted misery. But still, how could he complain when he’d had the most incredible sexual experience of his life, and with the sexiest supernatural creature he’d never believed could exist. So he’d lumbered through the day, and assumed after a good nights’ sleep, that would be that.

            Yet the good nights’ sleep never came. Night after night, he found himself awake, aching, _needing_ the contact his body had never known it was missing. Part of him wondered wildly if he’d been infected. Trying to find something that would explain this fixation that was taking him over. There had been no denying, he’d wanted the blond the moment he’d laid eyes on him. But while perhaps the magnetism had been due to a supernatural pull, Bucky somehow doubted it would have made a difference. One glance at that jawline, shadowed in a days-worth of growth, almost ridiculously lush lips, piercing blue eyes, and a body that had promised rapture just _looking_ at it, and Bucky would have done anything to get closer. The effortless way that body had lifted his own, manhandling his own muscular frame had just been the icing on top of an irresistible cake.

            So, whether this obsession was some sort of side effect of the bite, like the dizziness but longer lasting, or just pure fascination, Bucky had come to accept by the second night it wasn’t going away. And he’d concluded there was only one logical thing to do. Get another hit. Until he either got this manic need out of his system, or overdosed. Easier said than done though, he’d discovered quickly. After all, he hadn’t even gotten the man’s name. Uncertain what else to do, he’d revisited the night club. Which had been decidedly devoid of vampires on a week night.

            Unable to accept defeat, and go home to the bed where he’d get no rest, Bucky had taken to haunting the streets. Walking through the frosty black, aimless yet intent. Vampires were nocturnal after all, he reasoned to himself as he shivered, hunching deeper into his jacket. So his would be up, be _somewhere_.

            Lost in thought, part of it on how he would likely lose his job if not his mind if he couldn’t get some decent sleep, the rest replaying the sexual encounter as it had for days straight now, it wasn’t until the unmistakable sound of a match striking that he was jerked from his preoccupation. Feet pausing at last, Bucky looked up to see the flare of flame lighting up sharp blue eyes. Before it was tossed to the ground, and Bucky took in the sight before him. Leaning against the side of a wall, taking an indolent drag of a cigarette, there he stood. Watching Bucky with an inscrutable gaze. And it was that precise moment that Bucky realized in all his time searching, he’d never once considered what he’d say if he’d been successful. Well, fuck.

            Staring at Bucky for long seconds, the blond seemed to consider him before breaking the silence. “You know, nice guy like you walking alone at this hour – people might think you were looking for trouble.”

            Trying not to shudder at the sound of that voice, which wrapped around him like smoke, Bucky managed a smirk, lifted a brow. Prayed desperately for cool. “Well, if I was, it looks like I found it.”

            Bucky seemed to have surprised the man, who lifted his own brows before a smile tugged at those ridiculously full lips. “Looks like you have,” he murmured, before taking one long drag of his cigarette and tossing it aside, the glow marking its curve before it fell neatly through the grate of the gutter. Bucky held his breath now when he pushed away from the wall. Moved closer in a motion too smooth to be a stalk, yet left Bucky feeling like prey all the same. “You know, I’m not the only trouble out here. I’d recommend, for your health, you stick to strolls in the daylight.” Despite the silky tone, Bucky could hear the veiled danger behind it, and wondered if it was a warning or a threat.

            Rocking back on his heels, Bucky looked up at the man who was now very much invading his space, yet wasn’t nearly close enough. “You saying someone else plans on accosting me in an alley?” he replied, felt his pulse jump in his throat when the blond went prenaturally still. Bucky watched as those intensely blue eyes bled away to black as they drifted down to Bucky’s mouth. Lower, to his neck where his heartbeat thrummed away.

            “Let’s just say, not everyone’s a gentleman like me. They won’t wait to see if you’re interested,” he finally replied, and the silky tone had been stripped away to something rougher, more heated. And this time, Bucky was unable to hide the tremor that ran down his spine. Noting it, the other man’s gaze snapped up to Bucky’s, yet when he read the lack of fear there, his look grew considering.

            “So. If you’re invested in keeping me off the streets, and away from nefarious characters, why don’t you give me a reason to stay in?” Bucky replied, licking at his lower lip, noting the way those eyes shot back down once more.

            “I thought I already had. Threat of death should be reason enough for anyone,” he replied, and this time there was something more in his voice. Frustrated anger, it sounded like, and the blond started walking, yet did nothing more than shoot Bucky a sidelong glance when he fell into step beside him.

            “That’s pretty good. But I’m willing to bet you can give me a better one,” Bucky countered. He considered the way the man hadn’t denied his interest in keeping Bucky alive, and tried not to feel unrealistically enthused by the sign of interest. He unashamedly enjoyed the laugh that seemed to be startled out of the other man.

            “Are you trying to proposition me?” he demanded, sounding genuinely surprised, and somewhat amused.

            “Maybe. Is it working?” Bucky grinned, enjoying how the mere inch or two difference in their height made it easy to look into those smiling eyes.

            Rather than answering the question, the other man sighed through his smile, and rubbed the back of his neck. Seeming genuinely uncertain how to proceed. “You know, once the reality of what happened sets in, most people wouldn’t go looking for the vampire that bit them,” he finally responded, and despite knowing full well just what his paranormal classification was, Bucky felt almost startled hearing the V word dropped so casually.

            “So what, you don’t have dozens of people wandering the night in search of you?” Bucky joked awkwardly, hoping that didn’t make him the one creepy guy who did. Oh God, he was creepy, wasn’t he? That sucked.

            Yet the question prompted the other man to stop, stare at Bucky once more. “No one has the option. They don’t remember what happened, and therefore don’t come looking for me.” Brows drawing together, Bucky blinked in confusion.

            “What, you have a taste for amnesiacs or something?”

            “Not exactly. I make them forget.”

            “Make them forget…” Bucky repeated slowly. Watched the other man smile, but there was nothing humorous in the nearly bitter expression.

            “Call it a gift.” At that, Bucky fell silent, absorbing the implications. Okay, so maybe the vampire could have compelled Bucky to him. Yet he normally made people forget all about him, and Bucky had done the exact opposite. Which meant... what exactly?

            “You didn’t make me forget. Why not?” Bucky demanded, when it became obvious asking was the only way he’d get the answer. He watched uncertainty cloud that face.

            “I don’t know,” he replied, and while it sounded like a lie, his tone was unexpectedly vulnerable.

            Bucky could work with that. “Well. Since it’s cold as fuck out here, and both of us are reasonably invested in me not dying, why don’t you come back to my place? Although maybe you could tell me your name first. Since we kind of skipped over that. Before.”

            Just like that, Bucky _knew_ he was remembering as well because those eyes grew darker once more, and his voice was just the slightest bit raspy when he spoke. “Steve. I’m Steve.” Bucky was quickly discovering just how physically he responded to that voice, particularly the rougher it got, and bit his lip to prevent the moan that wanted to spill out in response.

            “Bucky. Nice to meet you Steve.” Definite amusement now on that handsome face, but polite as a school boy, Steve took Bucky’s proffered hand and shook it. Didn’t protest when Bucky kept ahold of it and began to head back home, tugging Steve along with him.

            Feeling more than a bit breathless once more, now that he’d actually accomplished his goal, and was now returning to his house, _his bed_ , with the vampire who’d been haunting his every waking thought, Bucky didn’t say a word until they’d made it to his apartment. Instead he focused on not hyperventilating while envisioning what had already transpired with the blond, and imagining what more could happen tonight. Steve didn’t break the silence either, until Bucky managed to unlock his apartment door with embarrassingly shaky hands, before stepping in and gesturing for Steve to follow.

            Stepping up to the doorway, Steve braced his hands on the top of the door jamb, gaze looking past Bucky into his living room, seeming to take in every detail before those blue eyes fell on Bucky once more. “Invite me in, Bucky,” Steve said softly, his voice dripping in sin, stroking its way down Bucky’s spine. Bucky, who had been wide eyed, drinking in the sight of those incredible arms flexing easily, and the way Steve’s shirt lifted just enough to offer a view of narrow hips, muscles arrowing down into low riding jeans, took a minute to absorb the words. Then he almost flushed realizing Steve meant it. He _needed_ Bucky to invite him in.

            Well that was no fucking problem, because Bucky needed Steve in his space more than he needed his next breath. “Please come in, Steve,” Bucky managed to get out. Before his gasp was swallowed when in an instant Steve had the door closed behind him, shirt ripped off, and was drinking Bucky in like he was dying for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well. Bucky officially has a vampire in his house. That is bound to be interesting *and by interesting I mean sexy as hell*. If you're enjoying this story so far, kudos and happy comments definitely inspire me to keep going :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically... all the smut. I have no excuse for myself. *sends this scandalous scene out into the universe with a vaguely guilty expression* You have been forewarned, lovely readers. Also, if anyone does take my music recommendations (does anyone do that?) this particular scene was inspired by song Sexual Hallucination by In This Moment.

The unnatural speed with which Steve moved might have given him pause any other time. But not now, when Bucky was practically flying apart from the feel of those hands, at _last_ upon his skin. Moaning into the kiss which felt more like being dominated and consumed than a caress of mouth on mouth, Bucky was nothing but fucking grateful for the impatience Steve was displaying. It matched his own, fueled the fire of need that had been simmering inside him for a week to burn higher. And he would not burn alone in these flames.

            Letting his own hands do what they would, a shudder ran down Bucky’s spine as he traced the contours of gorgeous muscles that he’d only guessed at during their last encounter. The blond’s body was unreal, so perfectly sculpted, Bucky felt a desperation to have it draped heavily over his own, until every inch of firm muscle and hot silky skin was committed to memory.

            Feeling Steve jolt as Bucky’s fingers moved firmly over his skin, Bucky considered how, of the two of them, he might be the least desperate for more. For everything. A thought that he almost couldn’t comprehend it, when he’d been a mass of need for days, so much so that every other thing in the world burned away inconsequential in comparison to the fire burning through him. But as the heat singed him, only hotter with each passing second, he gloried in the way the panting gasps and moans that spilled out of his throat only seemed to ignite Steve further. God, he’d never felt anything like this before. Didn’t want to go on if he couldn’t see it through.

            _Touch me. Take me,_ his hands pleaded as they grasped at that supernatural body moving so impatiently against him. As Steve held him so close breathing was a challenge, Bucky was happy to burn where he stood, yet knew a change of venue would only serve his best interests. And so, never once pulling his mouth from Steve’s, Bucky lifted one hand to tangle in short, silky soft hair, kept those lips pressed to his own as he began to walk backwards, memory guiding him towards his bedroom until the back of his legs hit his mattress.

            Groaning as he licked into Bucky’s wicked, intoxicating mouth, Steve blinked when they came to a sudden stop, opening his eyes enough to take in the change of scenery. Pulling back, air dragging violently from his chest as Bucky met his eyes, the stormy gray consumed by black as his pupils dilated to mirror his need, devouring and unstoppable. Taking advantage of the pause, Bucky ripped his own shirt off, didn’t fight the shudder that racked through him when Steve’s eyes went black. Not just dark – pitch black, vivid blue vanishing as Steve let out a trembling breath, hands raising from where they’d been clamped almost painfully over Bucky’s hips.

            As they skimmed delicately over the muscled planes of Bucky’s body, it felt almost _reverent_. Bucky knew it was anything but, part of him whispering not to make more of it than it was. Yet the voice of reason was scorched away when Steve dragged those unexpectedly gentle hands up, palms raising to cup Bucky’s face, thumbs brushing his jawline as fingers buried in unruly waving hair. Steve softly pressed his mouth to Bucky’s once more, the kiss achingly slow, the emotion in them something Bucky could taste. And it tasted like so much more than simple lust.

            “Are you sure?” Steve questioned quietly. Giving Bucky the out he’d never take in a thousand years. Lifting his own hands from their greedy, desperate explorations, Bucky palmed the back of Steve’s neck in turn. He met those black eyes that perhaps should have made his heart beat frantically in fear. Instead had his heart skipping a beat altogether, with a sentiment he couldn’t even acknowledge to himself. But there could only be one answer.

            “Yes. Be with me Steve,” Bucky replied, his own voice breathy. He watched as that black gaze searched his own, looking for something more than his words had provided. His thoughts, his needs, naked upon his face, Bucky didn’t make any attempt to hide them. Wanting nothing more than for Steve to read his sincerity.

            Whatever he conveyed, it seemed to convince Steve, whose eyes went impossibly darker, so much so that Bucky felt he could read an eternity in those night sky eyes. Leaning in once more, Steve captured his lips, the intensity of the caress not diminished in the least. Yet the urgency in his motions had dissolved, as though Steve was determined if he should have this, he would _savor_ this. A desire Bucky didn’t fight in the least, so long as he would be _had_.

            Groaning, Bucky’s hand fisted in Steve’s hair, drawing a punched out breath from the blond’s lungs, yet he didn’t speed his motions, each touch achingly slow. The rasp of his unshaven jaw scraped along the column of Bucky’s neck, the velvety softness of his lips a delicious contrast as he stamped invisible kisses over Bucky’s skin, slowly but surely claiming every inch of him. Strength melting at the leisurely claiming, Bucky let himself fall backwards on his bed, hips arching helplessly when Steve exhaled roughly, one hand going up to tug at his own hair as though to center himself through pain.

            If Steve was entertaining any thoughts of walking away from what was being displayed, _offered_ so enticingly before him, they evaporated as Bucky sinuously slithered up the blankets until he was sprawled entirely on his bed, and was able to plant his feet against the mattress. Bracing as he lifted his hips once more, fingers teasingly dragged down his zipper, achingly slow as he bit coyly at his lips which he knew were blood red by now. Bucky’s only intention was to incite Steve’s desire further, yet his eyes fluttered shut at the barest of touch on the heat of his erection, the action of unzipping his jeans releasing the pressure so his cock could surge forward, aching and desperate for so much more.

            “Fuck,” he groaned, unable to see the way heat stained his cheeks, or observe the way he looked, head tossed back and body arching. Yet Steve missed none of it, and witnessing the fucking gorgeous glory of Bucky panting and needy, he could no more leave the brunet craving the contact he was deprived of than he could stop his own frantic breathing. Hooking fingers in the waist band of both Bucky’s jeans and boxers, Steve deliberately tugged them down, biting his own lip painfully as the rest of that glorious body was bared to his gaze, until Bucky lay entire naked beneath him.

            Writhing against the blankets, even their cool, smooth glide against his skin more than he could handle in his over-sensitized state, Bucky bunched the blankets in his hands, refusing to give in to the urge to wrap an impatient hand around his dick. He wanted Steve’s hand, mouth, body upon him instead. “Steve,” he nearly whimpered, the unadulterated need evident in his voice.

            Tearing his eyes from the length of Bucky’s body, so stunning and exquisitely perfect in every way, Steve met his gaze once more. He saw the naked desire that was all for him, and was helpless to deny. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, running a hand up a toned calf, saw Bucky’s head fall back with a relieved sigh at the contact. Breaking the touch only long enough to rip away the rest of his clothes, Steve knelt on the mattress, prowled up it until he was braced over Bucky’s body. Before he lowered himself, the impact of being skin to skin leaving them both jolting, groaning in shared pleasure so deep it was almost agony. But this pain, this was one Steve would choose a thousand times over.

            Feathering his lips along Bucky’s collarbones, he inhaled sharply when Bucky dug fingers into the muscle of his back, nails raking down skin that could heal instantly. Even so, he felt the bite of pain all the same, gloried in the loss of control it signaled in the other man. Steve registered his own loss of control as he began to thrust against the brunet, cursing darkly at the feel of their cocks rubbing against one another. “Fuck, Bucky, you feel so good,” he bit out, adoring the way Bucky’s fingers dug deeper, hard enough to break skin at Steve’s voice rasping over him.

            Bucky was beyond all thought, all reason, as the heavier male pinned him down with nothing more than his burning weight alone. The groans tearing from his throat turned into whimpers when Steve reached between their bodies, wrapped a hand around both of their cocks, and gave them a torturously slow stroke. At the helpless sound, Steve let out a curse, his head falling to rest on the heavy muscle of Bucky’s shoulder, but Bucky was too far gone to notice. Instead, he wrapped his own hand over Steve’s, trying to force him to move faster, grip harder, _anything_ , feeling himself already shockingly close to the edge. He growled in frustration when Steve couldn’t be budged, endless strength making him immune to Bucky’s attempts. Bucky jolted when teeth nipped at his ear, before Steve spoke, his voice rough and nowhere near as controlled as his actions.

            “Don’t worry baby, I’m going to take care of you.” Bucky nearly sobbed as his dick pulsed at the affectionate name, felt Steve’s gorgeous cock twitch in response. Felt Steve’s jaw clench as it rasped against his own. “Where are your supplies Buck?”

            Blinking eyes gone blind in pleasure, it took Bucky long moments to pull himself together enough to respond, the continued slow glide of Steve’s hand stealing all higher brain function. But finally he threw his head back, gasping for air as he reached towards his nightstand, shaking hand fumbling the drawer open. His mouth fell open immediately when Steve pressed a kiss to his slick lips once more, licking desperately along Steve’s tongue as it swept inside, claiming him irrevocably. Finally pulling back, Steve pressed his lips along Bucky’s jaw.

            “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Steve reached past him, pulled out the bottle of lube and a condom, dropping them both on the bed beside them. Then he let go of their cocks, shushing Bucky as he cried out at the loss. Instead, Steve began to kiss his way down Bucky’s body, mouth tracing firm muscle and sweat dampened skin. Bucky tossed an arm over his face, trying to absorb each touch all at once, while also trying to breathe past the unending pleasure that threatened to bring him to climax at the feel of that clever tongue tasting him, the sounds of Steve’s little hums of enjoyment nearly his undoing.

            Christ, it felt like being worshipped, and if he had the capability for words, Bucky would beg Steve to never stop. But unable to force out anything past the never ending stream of moans, panting gasps and high pitched whimpers when Steve nipped unexpectedly at the almost arrogant jut of his hipbone, Bucky could only plead with his body, trying to shift and arch beneath hands that pinned him down in a casual display of strength that left him weak. Being so entirely overpowered – he’d never known he’d needed that until Steve had taken him over. When warm breath blew over the head of his cock which had been steadily leaking pre-come, making a mess across his flexing abs as he was desperate for more stimulation, Bucky’s breath jolted out of him.

            A smile flickered across Steve’s face at the triumph of having Bucky falling apart so completely, yet rather than smug, it felt adoring. A dangerous sensation he knew, but one he was powerless to stop. Teasingly, he licked a long, wet stripe up the length of Bucky’s cock, loving the way the brunet shouted wordlessly, hips trying to thrust up into his mouth. Holding him still, Steve swirled his tongue over the end, groaning at the dark, incredible taste. He already knew he’d never get enough, but was too far gone to care. All desire to tease melted away, when he gave into his own needs and swallowed Bucky in one smooth motion, taking the brunet in until his cock was nudging at the back of his throat.

            Bucky’s fingers tightened painfully in his own hair, so close to erupting as Steve moved smoothly on him, that wet, wicked mouth an incredible hot suction that had him falling apart in moments. Trying to hold back was impossible, when he managed to open eyes tightly clenched shut, and blinked blearily down at Steve. Who was staring back at him, eyes looking up at him almost coyly through thick lashes, that lush mouth stretched obscenely around Bucky’s cock. Crying out, Bucky tugged at Steve’s soft hair, trying to warn him with his motions when he couldn’t find the words, but the blond only pressed tighter over him, swallowing smoothly as Bucky erupted, a release that felt never ending as Steve’s throat flexed around him, coaxing out more until Bucky felt entirely empty.

            Shuddering, Bucky’s arms fell to the mattress beside him, body jolting in aftershocks when Steve finally released him from his mouth, too weak to react as the blond pressed open mouthed kisses to his hip bones, a spot that seemed to fascinate Steve as he licked over them. His mind was too thoroughly blown to react to the caresses as he struggled to remaster the art of breathing. Patiently Steve waited, rubbing soothingly along thighs that trembled, content to continue stamping kisses along Bucky’s skin, finally breaking the silence when Bucky’s breathing evened out a bit, no longer quite so broken.

            “You are incredible,” Steve spoke, watched as a flush crept along those cheekbones, an expression of embarrassment crawling over his face.

            “That wasn’t, uh, I didn’t mean to – so fast,” Bucky began, mortification sinking in at just how quickly, how easily he’d finished. Then he blinked when Steve once more moved with heart stopping speed, so the blond hovered over him once more, their faces level once more, his expression both serious and stern.

            “Stop it,” Steve admonished. “I wanted to make you come apart. And fuck, you tasted amazing,” he breathed, lips dragging lightly over Bucky’s own as he spoke. “Besides, don’t think we’re even close to done. The next time you come apart, I want it to be as I’m fucking you. And I intend to take my time.” Shuddering at the dark promise in Steve’s voice, all embarrassment melted away at the naked honesty, and pure want in that rough tone.

            “Well, in that case - do your worst,” Bucky joked, then felt the slight smile fall away when Steve rubbed his own erection that showed no sign of flagging against him.

            “Why don’t I do my best instead?” Steve whispered, and Bucky could only swallow convulsively when the larger man levered up enough to kneel between Bucky’s legs, midnight eyes tracing over him once more. Hands resuming their gliding movements, Steve slowly grasped Bucky’s thighs, inexorably spreading them further open until he was completely exposed to that dark gaze.

            “Fuck, you are incredible,” Steve repeated, his expression so gone Bucky wasn’t sure he even realized he was speaking out loud. Yet at the praise, his cock started to harden once more, and Bucky had a moment of clarity that this could well be the way he died. But if his body being plied by the bigger man like an instrument of pleasure was the way he went – well, he couldn’t imagine a better way to go.

            Grabbing the discarded bottle of lube, Steve popped the lid open, and coated the fingers of one hand liberally in the slick. “Look at me,” he whispered, and waited until Bucky’s blurry, needy gaze was locked on his before lowering his hand to trace around Bucky’s rim, felt the brunet jump at the intimate contact. Yet Bucky never glanced away as Steve glided slick fingers around him, before the tip of one finger began to press in, gentle but unrelenting until the tight ring of muscle gave way to the persistent motion, and he was gliding the large digit deep.

            “Fuck,” Bucky uttered brokenly, as Steve slowly stroked in and out, felt himself burning all over again. The slight sting disappeared nearly as soon as it arrived, leaving fiery need in its wake, and it wasn’t long before Bucky was pleading for more, hips jerking on the intrusion of that one finger inside him. A smile tugging at his lush lips, Steve wordlessly complied, sliding another finger into the body that was slowly relaxing for him, scissoring the two gently, stretching Bucky out. He was determined that when he slid home inside that body, there would be nothing but pleasure for the both of them.

            Bucky however had other ideas, need ripping through him, cock hard and aching once more as Steve made good on his promise to take his time. “Steve please,” he gritted out, the feel of Steve’s hand incredible, but his body shuddering for so much more. Then he cried out sharply when Steve unexpectedly twisted those fingers, brushing over that spot inside him that had his vision blacking out. Steve felt his own lips part helplessly in response, the tight grasp of Bucky’s ass over his hand feeling so fucking incredible, his resolve to draw this out weakened. His own need to be inside Bucky growing past every other desire.

            Abruptly adding a third finger, Bucky jerked, but there was no pain in his expression, only wanton desire as he fucked himself impatiently on Steve’s hand. Grabbing the condom, Steve slid his hand free, fucking adoring the heartbreaking little whimper Bucky let out at the loss. “Shh,” Steve soothed, even as he ripped the packet open, slid the condom on, the feel of his own hand upon his cock that had been neglected up to this point having him clenching his jaw, swearing. Quickly now, he grabbed the lube again, and quickly slicked himself up, then draped himself over Bucky once more, needing to feel the man on every inch of his skin.

            Groaning at the feel of his dick brushing against Bucky, Steve inched his cock forward, until he began to press the broad head inside. Pressed his face to the damp skin of Bucky’s neck, he nudged deeper, loving how Bucky clenched around him, as though his body were desperately trying to coax Steve deeper still. Chest aching at the broken moans spilling from Bucky, Steve lost the fight when the other man wrapped his arms around him, their legs tangling together, hips tilting up.

            “Christ,” Steve bit out, as he slid in until he was seated completely inside of Bucky, the feel of the other man gasping and flexing over the large intrusion of his cock inside his ass so staggering he knew he’d never experienced anything close to it in his life. Steve held himself still, simply absorbing the astonishing sensations, but Bucky had other ideas, nearly sobbing as he needed _more_ , more everything, strong limbs wrapped around the blond, urging him to move.

            “Okay baby,” Steve said when Bucky matched his frantic motions with pleading words, brushing his lips over Bucky’s brow, before pushing up enough to give himself the leverage to thrust deep. He watched the brunet’s face smooth out from edgy frustration to blissed awe at the feel of Steve’s cock surging inside him. Gratifying them both, Steve set a hard, pounding pace, fucking himself into Bucky so hard they began to slide over the blankets, Bucky bracing a hand to his headboard to keep them from slamming into it. Seeing the smooth flex of muscle in that arm, every inch of Bucky so damn gorgeous, Steve moaned, looking down to watch the way Bucky’s hole stretched around his cock, taking him so beautifully it was a fucking miracle.

            “God, Bucky, you are so good. Christ, you are a fucking masterpiece, taking me so well baby,” Steve spoke, unable to stop the spill of words that he needed to say, needing to praise the other man. He was gratified by the way Bucky reacted to the verbal caress, tossing his head back as he snapped his hips harder to meet each thrust. And Steve’s gaze was drawn irresistibly to the mark, still just visible on his throat, from where he’d bitten him last. Remembering in vivid detail how fantastic the man had tasted, how his blood had haunted him ever since, Steve’s mouth begged for more. Thrusting only harder still as the memory heightened his desire, jolting the smaller man’s entire body with each driving motion, it wasn’t until Bucky spoke that Steve tore his eyes way from the spot, met that gaze which was nearly as black as he knew his own to be.

            “Do it,” Bucky said, his voice completely fucked out. But his expression was intent as he watched Steve’s brows pull together. “I want you to,” he promised, tilting his head slightly, exposing the unmarked side of his neck. Offering his unblemished skin, the pulse thudding beneath it. He saw the explosion of understanding move over Steve’s face, quickly chased by lust and need so raw Bucky’s dick jumped, threatening to come, untouched, from that look alone.

            When Steve hesitated, Bucky reached up, wrapped a hand around Steve’s neck, tugged until the blond lay pressed tightly over him once more, hips never stopping their frantic motion, groaning as his cock felt the pressure of Steve’s lickably firm muscles finally providing much needed contact. He compelled his vampire lover closer, who was so incredibly beautiful he could never be mistaken for anything but supernatural, until the blond groaned and began to lick at Bucky’s skin.

          Bucky held his breath as he felt those fangs he’d been remembering, fantasizing about for days, began to tease over the throbbing surge of his blood. He clung more tightly to Steve, needing the bite more than he needed air. “Please,” Bucky finally gasped when it seemed Steve would leave them both dangling on the edge, and had no sooner gotten the word out when sharp teeth sank deep, connecting them entirely. Shattering, Bucky cried out, voice wrecked as he came, his release hot and slick between their bodies. He felt the pleasure tear through him in a devastation of sensation, the feel of that hypnotic mouth pulling so strongly at his throat as exquisite as his cock throbbing as it released ribbon after ribbon of come.

            The sensation of Bucky’s release only adding to his own soul deep-pleasure at tasting the man once more, Steve licked over the pinpricks, sealing them as he let out his own groan, the flavor of Bucky on his tongue and the feel of his body clenching around Steve’s still thrusting cock the catalyst that had him fragmenting apart as well. With a sudden and shocking display of strength, Steve sat back until he was kneeling, arms wrapped in an unbreakable hold around Bucky who was now sitting in his lap, legs draped over Steve’s, arms coming up in surprise to wrap around his neck at the unexpected motion.

            Feeling the position stretch his rim tighter around Steve’s pulsing cock, jetting his release deep inside Bucky’s shuddering body, Bucky only clung harder to the blond, wrapping his legs around that narrow waist, and buried his face in Steve’s neck. Bucky adored the way Steve held him as though he’d never let him go, the hold feeling both permanent and tender. Chests pressed together, Bucky’s heart thundered against Steve’s, he snuggled closer yet, finding everything he’d ever wanted in the embrace. _Yes_ , that shocked organ whispered, as it tried to jump from his own body, find its way to the blond. Having no words, the men held each other. Neither one willing to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you liked this chapter, I'd love to happily receive your kudos and comments :D They help keep me writing *hint hint*


	4. Chapter 4

What the actual fuck. Steve had done it again. Melted away into the night like some sort of embarrassed co-ed after a one night stand. Maybe that was exactly what this had been, Bucky reflected furiously. Maybe that’s exactly what this had been – he, the stupid ass human had brought the vampire home for a night of wild sex, just so Steve could go back and brag to all his vamp friends that he’d bagged a live one.

            But the thing was, it hadn’t _felt_ that way. Sure, maybe the instant attraction to Steve had been purely sexual. And Jesus, who could blame him. The other man was practically a walking god, and it was obvious someone as perfect as he had to be otherworldly. Yet the first encounter had stuck with Bucky more than any other casual fuck ever had, and when he’d acknowledged he needed more, he hadn’t just meant sex. He wanted more of _Steve_ , whatever he could get of him. And that’s what it had felt like. That when Steve had slowed everything down, and skillfully, masterfully taken Bucky over, it had felt like more. Every touch weighted, every kiss saying a thousand words.

           It had been more intense than Bucky had expected, and everything he didn’t know he’d needed. When at last the two had fallen still after exhausting themselves in each other, and simply tangled together in silence, it had felt like his soul had sighed. Finally, Steve had laid Bucky back down upon the mattress. He’d eased gently from his body, expression tender as Bucky hissed at the motion, before he’d gotten up, and grabbed a washcloth, taking his time in cleaning the evidence of their encounter from Bucky’s body. Before he’d crawled back into bed, and wrapped himself around Bucky’s body once more, tucking the brunet’s face into his neck. And for the first time in a week, Bucky had slept hard, and slept well. Only to wake up with vague thoughts about making pancakes, before he’d come to enough to realize he was alone in his bed. He’d stumbled out of his room and discovered he was alone in his apartment. “Fuck!”

            At this point, a reasonable, fairly intelligent human being would get the hint. Take the night for what it was, and think of it in the future as only a delightful encounter followed by the humiliating experience of being stepped out on, chuck it in the fuck it bucket, and move on. That’s what Bucky should be doing.

           But no. Instead he was like some obsessed fangirl who was convinced if she only wanted it bad enough, her idol would eventually realize how perfect she was and they’d live happily ever after. Not that he was asking the damn asshole for a lifelong commitment. Jesus. But were some freaking manners too much to ask for? The blood sucking jerk could have at least had the _decency_ to lie to Bucky, tell him it had been great and he’d call. Anything would have been better than slipping away in the night like a ghost.

            So. Bucky had felt his next move was obvious. Find Steve, _again_ , and give him a piece of his mind. Though, tragically, it had to wait about twelve hours for night to fall once more, so he’d spent the day stewing, muttering bad naturedly to himself as he struggled to focus on getting some actual work done. By the time dark had arrived, he’d worked himself up into such a mass of annoyance, he wasn’t sure what he’d do _if_ he found Steve one more time. Launch into what was by now a very impressive speech about basic human decency and lousy vampire conduct, or punch Steve in that stupidly sexy jaw before jerking him in for a violent kiss. Deciding to decide later, Bucky shrugged into his jacked and furiously strode out into the black.

            Heated and distracted as he was in his ire, it took him longer to notice he was being trailed than it typically would. Being a New Yorker, Bucky had an ingrained sixth sense for danger, yet it clearly was no match for a head full of fury, because by the time he realized he was being followed, the man was already in touching distance. And it was not the one man Bucky desperately needed to touch, whether in annoyance or arousal.

            Stumbling slightly when the footsteps behind him were suddenly silenced, Bucky nearly ran into the man who just as quickly stood before him. Bucky jerked back just in time to avoid a collision. He stared in guarded confusion at the man who loomed before him, stance relaxed, smile upon his face. Yet despite the casual appearance, Bucky only grew more edgy as he quickly drank the sight of the stranger in. Undeniably handsome, though in a rough, nearly brutal sort of way, the man was all lean muscle, tanned skin, and dark eyes that seemed to pierce Bucky in a way that left him feeling more unsettled by the second.

            “Uh, hi,” Bucky finally said, when the stranger made no move to talk. Not normally the type to engage an unfamiliar person in conversation, being a religious follower of the New York practice of anonymity, Bucky normally would have continued on his way. But he had absolutely no desire to show his back to this man, having the not so far-fetched thought that he might be attacked like so much prey if he tried to run. And so he stood. Waited to figure out what his next move should be. And wondered where the _hell_ Steve was.

            “So it’s true,” Mr. Tall Dark and Menacing mused, hand stroking the sharp line of his jaw as he looked Bucky up and down. His gaze settling on the mark, still red against Bucky’s skin, flickering to the other just peeking out of his shirt on the opposite side of his neck. Before moving back up to measure Bucky’s face. “You’ve been used. Twice I see.”

           Bucky struggled not to deflate at that. Yes he fucking had been. It was depressing. And even more embarrassing to realize other people knew it. Although, despite nothing confirming his suspicion of the nature of this chatty stranger, he thought ‘person’ might be the wrong term.

           “Do I know you?” Bucky watched those dark eyes bleed away entirely to black. And felt true fear clench painfully inside him at the sight. Yes, person was definitely the wrong term. Nosferatu was more like it. But where watching this same effect on Steve left Bucky breathless with want, seeing it now left him breathless with a mounting dread. Clearly this was the sort of character Steve had warned Bucky about. But like an asshole, Bucky had completely disregarded the warning. And now was going to likely have his throat ripped out. Shit.

            Thinking vaguely about how his poor plants were going to die with no one to water them, Bucky carefully turned as the man began to circle him, expression thoughtful, refusing to let the vampire out of his sight.

           “We haven’t had the pleasure. But perhaps that will change. After all, he took you, then let you go, without making you forget. That was careless.” A heavy sigh. “Looks like someone will have to clean up his mess. Can’t have you talking now.” A mockingly mournful shake of his head, the man skimmed his gaze over Bucky’s tense form once more before leaning in the slightest bit. His smirk grew when Bucky was unable to resist jerking back at the motion.

            “Listen. Talk is overrated. There’s nothing I care to tell anyone about, so no worries,” Bucky offered, fighting the words out past a throat determined to close up.

            Another weighty sigh. “If only I could trust that. But humans, you all lie so easily. It likely wouldn’t take much for you to break that promise. So it’s up to me to make sure you don’t.”

            Hand clenching in his pocket, sincerely wishing he had something better to defend himself with than a half empty container of Tic-Tacs, Bucky drew in a breath. He prepared to fight, no matter how useless the struggle might prove, when a second voice cut through the shadow, silky and soft. Bucky felt it skim over his skin like the fine edge of a scalpel, and realized that while the danger reeking off the man in front of him was like a fist to the face, powerful and raw, the pure menace of the individual behind him was infinitely more refined. Like a blade that slit your throat, spilling your blood before you ever felt the pain. _Shit_.

            “Is that so, Rumlow? Interesting to hear you’ll be... taking _care_ of things in someone else’s territory.” Deciding between the two threats, he’d rather risk taking his eyes off the man for long enough to size up the peril lurking behind him, Bucky turned just enough, to see her glide from the shadows. The most stunning female he’d ever seen in his life drift into the circle of light offered by a streetlamp, small in height, curvy as a hell, shining hair the color of blood curling gently around an exquisite porcelain face. Taking in the sight of her, Bucky instantly upgraded her threat level. Staring into her face was staring into the face of death itself.

            _Shit_. His plants were definitely going to bite it. Though Bucky prayed that his own death would be much quicker and less painless that his poor dieffenbachia. Inching back slowly, Bucky was grateful to observe neither of them spared him a glance. Instead, the man, Rumlow, seemed to be debating his next move, while the woman watched him with the unblinking stare of a spider, sizing up her prey. Saying a quick prayer of thanks that her attention wasn’t on himself, Bucky risked moving back another inch.

            “He won’t keep his territory for long if he doesn’t finish his business,” Rumlow replied at last, crossing his arms across his chest, the aggression in his voice thinly veiled. As though he was pissed as hell at being interrupted, but didn’t care to antagonize the small female. Frankly, while Bucky would like to see the douche, who it seemed had been threatening with vague and unimaginative innuendos to kill him, be mercilessly shredded by the lethal looking woman, he couldn’t blame Rumlow for trying to avoid it. Another bold two inches shuffled away this time.

            “If I were you, I’d be more concerned what he’ll do if he catches you in his territory. If I recall correctly, the last time that happened, things didn’t go so well for you,” she mused delicately. She inspected her nails with a nearly bored expression while Rumlow turned an ugly shade of red, clearly repressing the violence that was nearly vibrating out of him. Dropping his arms to his sides, where his hands fisted viciously, Rumlow sent Bucky one last glare before meeting the female’s gaze.

            “You tell him to clean up his fucking messes, or else.” With that, Rumlow was gone. Bucky blinked, unsure if the vampire had moved too fast to see, or literally vanished, but neither option put a smile on his face. Particularly when he realized he was now alone in the company of the redhead who put the fear of God in supernatural beings. If there was a bright side to this, which he desperately could use at the moment while trying not to pass out in sweaty fear, it was that Bucky’s attention was now no longer divided between two separate threats to his longevity. But the flip side was her attention was now focused solely on Bucky as well.

            Unable to keep himself from taking a step back when that icy gaze at last landed on him, he froze at the quickly snapped, “Stop.” Her tone, which up to this point had been nothing but soft, poisonously sweet tones now sounded flat out annoyed. Eyes widening when she flipped out a phone and quickly dialed someone, he didn’t even think to move at this point when she held up a finger, indicating for Bucky to wait, while she waited for _someone_ to pick up.

            “Rogers, we’ve got a situation… Yeah I know, but you should be grateful I was because I just stopped Rumlow from a little late night snacking in your neighborhood.” At this, she pulled the receiver away from her ear, scowling at the very audible yelling emitting from the speaker before pressing it back to her ear. “You could just thank me. But you’d still owe me. Come deal with this now. And Rogers – deal with it _properly_ this time.”

                 Hanging up the phone in the middle of more yelling on the other end, she sighed prettily, before sliding the cell in her back pocket and stared at Bucky once more. Who’s conjectures were growing more wild by the minute. Fuck, was he in the middle of some crazy vampire mafia war? And in his _stupid_ late night stalking around, he’d wandered his dumb ass right into some boss vampire’s neighborhood? Really, how did he get himself into this sort of situation. Bucky should have just let being walked out on go, like any other normal person, and eat some ice cream or something to get over it.

            When it became apparent Bucky wasn’t going to strike up a witty repartee, she quirked an eyebrow. “So, you’re the one causing all the trouble.”

            Okay, well talking was better than her going straight for his throat. Though from the sounds of the conversation, she was apparently saving the trouble for some other lucky individual. But if talking put that off, he could definitely talk.

            “I have no shame in admitting I’m terrified to say yes,” he replied honestly, watched the smile cross over her features, turning them surprisingly warm for a moment.

            “I can see why he likes you.”

            “He?” Bucky replied in surprise. “Who, Steve? Yeah, I’m thinking like isn’t exactly what he feels about me,” he added, struggling not to feel morose again. _Pull it together Barnes,_ he lectured himself, knowing he didn’t really have time to spare in a pity party when a trying-to-keep-my-dumb-ass-alive party was already in full swing.

            “Well, in this precise moment, you might be right,” she mused, eyes fixed on something over his shoulder. Jerking around, Bucky’s mouth fell open, when he saw, as quickly as Rumlow had disappeared earlier, Steve had now appeared. Damn vampires. Heart pounding nearly painfully, more of it than Bucky liked had to do with how incredible Steve looked, wearing faded jeans and a black Henley. Yet when Bucky managed to tear his eyes away from the acres of muscles on delightful display in the tight shirt, and raise them enough to take in that face, he noted the look of fury upon Steve’s face. Yeah, ‘liking’ didn’t seem to weight into this particular equation in the slightest.

            “Well boys, this had been fun, but I’m off. Play nicely,” the redhead spoke lightly before strolling unconcernedly away.

            “Bye,” Bucky said, impressed with how casual he managed to sound.   Steve on the other hand seemed perfectly content maintaining his silent glower, folding his arms over his chest as he glared down at Bucky. While the effect was impressive, and tragically sexy, it also had the result of reminding Bucky that of the two of them, if anyone should be angry it was himself, aka the jilted lover. Yep, decision made. Impressive speech it was – jaw punching and angry kissing could wait for later.

            Before he could fire his opening shot, Steve, the sexy asshole, beat him to the punch. “Did I not make it _clear_ to you that wandering around could be hazardous to your health? Was I in any way vague when I told you that there are those out here who would actually _kill_ you?” Damn it, that voice only got sexier when he was angry, making it all the harder for Bucky to concentrate on his righteous indignation. But no way was he letting Steve know that.

            “Well they’re going to have to freaking wait because I have some ass kicking to take care of myself,” Bucky shot back, folding his arms over his own chest because damn it, he may feel like a rejected loser, but he didn’t have to look like one. Incensed wronged individual was a much better option.

            “Excuse me?” Steve replied, eyebrows shooting up. Raising only higher yet when Bucky jabbed him in the chest.

            “You heard me. If I got my hot ass killed it would be completely your fault. Who the hell just bails in the middle of the night? You didn’t even leave me your number, so I could just freaking text you and you could ignore it like a normal person. Instead I have to wander around just so I can tell you you’re an asshole, apparently attracting freaking douche Dracula when you don’t have the decency to show up!” Okay, so he hadn’t exactly meant to be yelling by the end. But still. After the complete nonsense he’d endured in the past twenty-four hours compliments of Steve, a little loud vocalization seemed not only justifiable, but necessary.

            Steve didn’t seem to share the sentiment, his brows lowering once more, his face settling back into the glare. “Sorry I wasn’t just waiting for you to wander by, but I was busy.” Seeing the way Bucky flinched back at that, hurt flickering over his face before he managed to hide it, Steve swore, shoved a hand through his hair. Clarified quickly, “ _Working._ ” He saw the protective mask slip in surprise this time.

            “You work?” Bucky repeated in disbelief. Of all the excuses he’d been anticipating, this had not made the list.

            Steve rolled his eyes. “Immortality doesn’t exactly come with a giant bank account,” he muttered.

            Bucky really didn’t want his lecture to be derailed any further, but couldn’t deny his fascination at seeing this glimpse of Steve as something more than just a neck-biting, mind-blowing, bed-ditching, heartbreak on legs. “What do you do?”

            Now Steve sighed. He glanced away, looking almost embarrassed. “I’m an artist. I do some graphic design work, illustrations, that kind of thing.”

            “Wow. Hot and talented,” Bucky drawled, and had the absolute fucking delight of seeing Steve actually blush. He shoved his hands in his pockets before he started walking away. A second later, Steve tossed a look over his shoulder at Bucky, who was standing in surprise at being ditched so blatantly. Again.

            “Come on,” Steve said, and Bucky didn’t even bother denying the little jolt in his chest at the realization that he wasn’t being left this time after all.

           Catching up, Bucky grinned widely up at Steve. “Where we going?” Steve sighed heavily again, though Bucky got the feeling it was more for effect than anything else.

           “I’m taking you back to my place. Clearly you can’t be trusted to be by yourself on the streets. You’re a freaking magnet for trouble.”

           “Obviously. I mean I found you didn’t I?” Bucky joked, elbowing Steve lightly. Feeling downright chipper that Steve was here, was voluntarily taking Bucky with him, and he hadn’t even delivered his lecture yet.

           “Punk,” Steve muttered, though a grin tugged at the edge of that gorgeous mouth.

           “Jerk,” Bucky replied easily. And smiling, they both walked on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha. So much love for her. Thank you for continuing on this journey, my lovely readers. The response to this story has just blown me away, with the insane amounts of kudos and comments it's received thus far, and it has me so excited to keep writing! As always, if you are still enjoying this adventure, I'd love to hear what you think :D


	5. Chapter 5

Watching Bucky silently moving through his space, the intoxicating scent of him drifting through the air, Steve realized the lingering aroma was going to torture him for days to come. He nearly groaned when Bucky ran fingers distractedly through his hair, sending a fresh wave of his scent floating to Steve. What the fuck was he doing? This was a mistake, one larger than any he could ever recall making. And he recalled plenty.

            It had been a struggle at first. To come to terms with what he’d become. To adjust to the sheer physical transformation. To grapple with the ethical dilemma of his existence, and what he was forced to exist on. Eventually, he’d managed to accept that, particularly once he’d understood no one ever had to die for him to live. More so, when he’d begun to refine the paranormal quirk that allowed him to erase the fear, the trauma, and the _memories_ from each of his donors. Erase himself. It was something that grew more painful with each encounter, when he began to realize no one human would ever know him, ever know the truth of what he was and remember him ever again. But it seemed fitting. It felt like a penance he deserved. For surely a creature such as him was cursed, regardless of whether he ever took a life or not.

            Despite the loneliness, Steve had been relieved at the ability to remove the trauma of the events from his victims. With his increased physical strength, it had been a simple matter to overpower anyone he chose. Yet forgetting the terror on their face when they looked at him before he’d wiped them, their horror-filled realization of what he was, was nowhere near as easy. It wasn’t until years later that he’d considered there might be another way.

            Steve had simply been walking, head bowed in thought when he’d felt the stare. He’d looked up to meet the gaze of the man walking towards him, the interest and invitation on the stranger’s face undeniable. Normally, looks like those made Steve deeply uncomfortable, aware that any appeal he had now was simply a result of what he’d become, not who he was deep inside. And if anyone knew the truth of what he was, any such look would surely evaporate into cloying dread.

            This time, the ever-present thirst had throbbed in Steve’s throat, and he knew his gaze grew dark with a desire of a completely different sort than the stranger’s. Yet the male had seen it, mistaken it, and a smile had curved undeniably gorgeous lips. When Steve maintained the eye contact until the two passed, then tossed a look over his shoulder before gliding soundlessly into a narrow alley, the man had followed. And was instantly upon Steve, hands shoving beneath Steve’s shirt to get at skin, mouth suddenly and impatiently moving upon his own.

            Steve had shuddered, in an instant realizing just how starved for contact he was other than the rushed, forceful apologetic embraces he’d inflicted upon so many. Groaning, Steve had let himself be shoved against the wall, the full body contact feeling amazing. But even more intoxicating had been the scent filling his lungs, the seductive perfume of lust staining the air until he’d been gasping for it.

            Half crazed by it, Steve had buried his face in the stranger’s neck, the pulse beating so strongly beneath tanned skin beckoning irresistibly until he’d given in, and taken. Dimly aware of the stranger’s pleasured moans, Steve had been staggered to discover the lust running through the man’s blood transformed the taste completely. Changing it from a necessary substance to sustain Steve’s life, to an inebriating addiction he couldn’t get enough of.

            So overcome by it, Steve had only realized in his thirst he’d nearly taken too much, almost crossed that line he’d sworn to himself he never would, when the stranger’s motions became feeble, his moans weak. Swearing at himself, Steve immediately sealed the wound, and helped the man into a sitting position on the ground. Checking him over carefully, Steve realized with intense relief the stranger would be fine, just a bit dizzy and weak for a while. Steve had managed to help him home, fortunately a place not far away, then wiped his thoughts.

            The guilt that normally accompanied this action at stealing someone’s blood, then stealing their memories had been buried beneath the chaos that was his mind as he considered the possibilities. Perhaps there was another way besides force. One that while still leaving his sense of ethics troubled at luring people under false pretenses, using a sexual appeal he knew wasn’t honestly his, it was a significantly less traumatic option for all parties involved. And so putting aside his qualms at using his prenatural looks to his advantage, he’d begun hunting in an entirely new way. He had been stunned by the success.

            It had been only too easy, luring people in. Both men and woman had responded to the simmering gazes he’d perfected in dark bars, crowded night clubs. Not the type to discriminate in his past life, he was only too grateful to accept any individual who came to him so easily, so willingly. And when they’d happily followed him into the night, where he could feed upon them in secrecy, their pleasure had been genuine when his teeth had pierced their skin, when his mouth pulled strongly upon their neck.

            Apparently the situation in which a bite occurred made all the difference, and his gorgeous victims would cling to him, desperate for anything he would give them. Despite the undeniable desire he would experience at hearing their moans stain the air, feeling hands so frantic upon his skin, Steve would never take more than their blood, before altering their memories enough to remember an enjoyable experience, with a dark-haired stranger bearing none of Steve’s features. No matter how time to time he’d longed for more, longed for physical contact that would sate an entirely different hunger, Steve had never given in to the need. He’d felt too much guilt for his actions already.

            And then he’d seen Bucky. Eyes drinking in the sight of the tall, muscled man standing alone at the bar, gorgeous throat bared as he tossed back a drink, running a tongue over the most gorgeously sculpted mouth Steve had ever seen. Bucky’s dark hair pulled back into a messy knot at his neck. Then when those piercing blue-grey eyes had met his across the length of the room, Steve had felt a jolt of want unlike anything he’d ever known. And it had nothing to do with blood.

            Meeting him amid the crush of people, Steve would have done anything to get his hands upon the dark-haired man, and was darkly delighted when it hadn’t taken a word to do so. He would have left it at that, yet as the lust burned in his veins at the muscled body pressed so tightly against his own, it had ignited his other hunger, and without conscious thought, his fangs had lengthened, and it had been instinct to tease them over the throbbing pulse.

            When Bucky had stilled, before turning to meet his gaze, Steve had felt frozen, stunned at his loss of control, his carelessness in revealing himself. Bucky had stared up at him with a heaving chest, and an inscrutable face, before tugging Steve down for a kiss that left him feeling like he’d been lit on fire. When Bucky had yanked him outside, nothing could have stopped Steve from lifting the man, pressing himself closer, only closer.

            Knowing the man was fully aware of what Steve was, yet wanted him anyway – it was like a shot of heroin straight to the veins and he needed so much more. Bucky had poured over his tongue like liquid ecstasy, and Steve couldn’t control the need to thrust against him, the sound of Bucky’s panting moans only driving him higher. It had been impossible to keep himself mentally distanced from the encounter as he had every time before. It was as though this man had been created specifically as Steve’s weakness. The gorgeous feel of his body, the incredible sound of his wreaked voice, and his willingness to fall into Steve’s supernatural hands. There had been no resisting it.

            Though Steve was still shocked days later at the sexual frenzy that had overcome him, he could forgive himself for it. After all, it had been so long since he’d lost himself in anyone else. Yet what he couldn’t excuse was what he’d done next. Body still throbbing from the most exquisite release, Steve had managed to lower Bucky back to his feet, letting their bodies glide against each other all the way down. Given that mouth, which had destroyed him so thoroughly, one last caress. Before disappearing in the night. _Without_ taking the memories with him.

            It was unacceptable. Intolerable. While being a creature of the night didn’t exactly come with a hand book, the main rule was obvious. Don’t leave victims lying all over town, with the memories intact that could lead to them pointing fingers your direction. Steve had never done it before, never considered an occasion would arise where he might even consider it. Clearly something about Bucky had stolen his sanity. And deep down, Steve knew, he hadn’t wanted to steal away the memory from the one human who’d understood what he was ahead of time, and wanted him anyway. It was weak. But it was true.

            Regretting it bitterly, wishing that he _could_ wish the night had never happened, and he’d never met the brunet stranger who would make him put his whole existence in jeopardy, Steve had berated himself. Until he became aware of the man moving through the night like he belonged in it – searching endlessly. Steve could only assume, searching for him. And he’d avoided him, afraid of where the confrontation would lead. He was unable to understand what the man could possibly want, other than the chance to retaliate against Steve now that he’d had time to absorb precisely what had occurred.

            Steve couldn’t continue to stand aside though when he’d heard others begin to whisper. Paying the man more attention than was healthy. And so Steve had stepped in, braced for the recriminations he knew would come his way. Instead, Bucky still wanted him. It was unbelievable. Incredible. And knowing his weakness was only growing, that he was stumbling down a path that would only lead to madness, Steve had been unable to resist going where Bucky lead. Taking him over completely, while feeling taken over himself.

            Leaving once Bucky had been asleep had been the only sane choice. Steve’s mind yelled at him to get out now, when a voice from somewhere deeper inside of him had demanded he stay. Curl around the muscled heat of Bucky, and simply be. The temptation had been so great, Steve had stumbled out of the apartment fearing if he didn’t in that instant, he never would.

            Of course, he’d tried to convince himself that was the end of it. That they’d both gotten what they’d wanted, and had parted ways for good. Steve hadn’t been able to lie well even to himself, but desperately hoped if he repeated it enough, he would begin to believe it. Then Natasha had called him. And the terror that had struck into his silent heart at the idea of Bucky in danger had put light to every lie he was telling himself. So he’d brought Bucky back here. To his home, where he’d never brought another soul, living or undead. And now Steve had no fucking clue what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! So here we have it - Steve's point of view. But will he share any of this with Bucky?? Stay tuned to find out! Also, if you are enjoying my story so far, I'd love to hear from you :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the good news - another chapter in the same day...

Here were the things Bucky knew. He’d been saved from a near certain death by a woman who _was_ death. That should have brought him some relief, yet he hadn’t failed to hear her instructions for Steve to “take care of it”. It, obviously being Bucky. And he was reasonably certain “taking care of” wasn’t referring to the burning need Bucky experienced just being in Steve’s presence. More than likely, end his existence was a more accurate translation.

            Coming down from his unnatural high at his relief at not being dead, and successfully finding Steve once more, the further they walked together in silence, Bucky couldn’t help but contemplate what precisely was in store for him. He was walking alone with the man who’d made his opinion of Bucky quite clear by leaving him without a word of apology, _twice_. Bucky didn’t care to consider what it said about himself that he was considering his own death as a potential eventuality, and was here anyway. Didn’t care to examine the state that he was in, even sober and thoughtful now, that it didn’t much seem to matter. But while he justified the apparent ambivalence to his own impending doom by reasoning that trying to run in the other direction didn’t precisely have the highest odds of success, he knew there was more. He wanted to _know_ Steve. Needed it in a way he couldn’t try to explain, and didn’t bother trying to defend.

            And now Steve, the man who had disappeared into the dark to escape Bucky had brought him _here_ , to his home. An unexpectedly warm one, full of soft light and gorgeous color, art adorning the walls not occupied by countless shelves, holding an untold number of books. A desk positioned near a window with a gorgeous view of the city at night had pencils, pens and paints scattered all over it, a work clearly unfinished upon it that Bucky resisted stepping closer to in an effort to see what the beautiful lines and shades would become.

            Bucky was captivated by the space, because if he’d taken the time to consider where Steve might actually live, instead of just naively assuming he was always mysteriously and broodingly walking around in the dark - an assumption that now left him embarrassed and grateful he hadn’t mentioned - this was the last thing he’d expect. Even so, his fascination couldn’t outweigh the undeniable pull Steve held, Bucky’s eyes drawn back to him almost irresistible. Seeing Steve standing uncertainly just inside the door, Bucky had to know. How dangerous this obsession was going to prove.

            “What are you going to do with me?” he asked quietly, his voice solemn. He noted the way Steve, who had carefully been avoiding his gaze by looking everywhere but at Bucky, now glanced at the floor as he sighed quietly. His face conflicted, Bucky could read in his features a battle being waged quite clearly, though he had no idea what the sides were. And if any of them equaled Bucky making it out of this alive.

            “I don’t know,” Steve replied at length, the distress in his voice evident. It was the second time he’d said this to Bucky, but the first time it sounded like the truth.

            Well. That illuminated absolutely nothing. “Are you going to kill me?” Bucky questioned. He saw those incredible blue eyes jolt up to meet his as last, the shock apparent in them.

            “No! Of course not. No, I – no.” If Steve’s stunned appearance at the query hadn’t convinced Bucky of his sincerity, the horror in his voice at the suggestion left no room for doubt. So, okay. That question, the most important question, had been answered. Leaving a thousand more careening inside of him, fighting to break free, to demand their answers. But he had no idea how much more honesty he could hope for. How much resolution he could be given. If the next question was the last one Bucky would be able to attempt, there was only one obvious choice left.

            “Can I ask you for something?”

            The look of dismay faded, altered, melting into one of uncertainty. Almost, _fear_ , Bucky observed. Uncertain what to make of it, while struggling with his own apprehension, he clasped one wrist in the other hand, squeezed almost painfully to center himself. He focused on what he had to ask, refusing to be silenced by his own fear that his request would be rejected.

            “Listen, if you don’t want to ever see me again, I… I get it. I won’t keep looking for you, won’t try to find you in any way. I’ll leave you alone. But if that’s what you want, all I’m asking is-” Bucky broke off, took a breath, met that wide, unblinking stare. “Don’t take my memories away. Maybe I’ll never have you again, and that’s okay. But I don’t want to forget. I want to remember this – remember you.”

            Seeing the naked emotion spilling over Steve’s face, the way he swallowed painfully, Bucky was struck with a sudden, shocking understanding. As much as he wanted to remember Steve, to have the memories if he could have nothing else, Steve _needed_ to be remembered with a desperation that was so powerful, so painful, Bucky realized just how incredibly lonely he must be. And the idea, of this incredible, beautiful, and he was beginning to discover, infinitely complex man being lonely, it physically hurt Bucky.

            Considering carefully, Bucky drew in a slow breath, blew it out again. Then he took just one more chance – one more among hundreds he’d been taking since Steve had careened into his life like a shooting star.   A blinding supernova in the midnight black that had been Bucky’s life, blazing through the dark in an agony of light and beauty. Crashing into him with unimaginable speed and force, the impact so sudden and devastating he didn’t know if either of them could walk away from it. But he knew this – he couldn’t move forward, couldn’t move _on_ if he didn’t try give it his all first.

            Stepping forward, Bucky noted the way Steve’s eyes quickly flicked back to him, away, then back once more. Reading the unmistakable nerves running over that face, Bucky felt his own nerves falling silent, contemplating. “I’m going to ask you one more question. And I want the truth. I think, after everything, you owe me that.” Now, something that look like guilt washed over those exquisite features. Steve stayed silent, his body looked strung so tight it was as though his frame was carved from stone. As though he was bracing himself for a blow that could shatter him, and Bucky had the sudden strange sensation that of the two, despite being laughably outmatched in terms of physical strength, he held the power in this moment.

            “Do you want to see me again?”

            A struggle was visible on Steve’s face, though Bucky couldn’t comprehend what responses were at war within him. Finally Steve ran a hand through his hair, heaved out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

            “Well. We will get back to _that_ statement later, but you haven’t answered my question. Do. You. Want to see me again?”

            Steve’s brows drew together, frustration evident as he met Bucky’s gaze once more. “It’s more complicated than that-”

            “Answer the fucking question Steve,” Bucky demanded, his face shooting out a challenge at the blond, his voice practically a dare.

            “Fine! Yes, I do. Of course I do. But that doesn’t change anything-”

            Just like that, Bucky closed the scant inches between them, gripping Steve’s hair and tugged him down so he could clash their lips together in a collision that instantly ignited them both. When Steve was immediately gasping into his open mouth, hands flying to grip Bucky’s hips in a hold that was bruising yet somehow not nearly enough, Bucky managed to pull back. When he was trying to make a point, it wouldn’t do to _forget_ the point. Maybe they hadn’t been yet, but they could be more than sex, so much more than a physical connection. Bucky wanted them to be more than that.

            “Okay. Now that that’s established,” he panted out, his voice not quite as even as he’d have preferred. Given the way Steve was staring at his damp, bright red lips with eyes gone jet black, he didn’t think the other man noticed his tenuous grasp on control. “I have a proposition for you.”

            At that, a surprised smile tugged at Steve’s lush mouth, expression morphing into one that could only be described as smug. “Funny, I feel like I’ve heard that before.”

            Bucky rolled his eyes. “Shuddup, ya smart ass. Here’s what I propose. How about we exchange numbers like two relatively normal humans. Or, I guess one normal human and one vampire. I have no freaking clue what’s normal for your type.” When Steve clearly had another snarky retort locked and loaded, Bucky silenced him with a squeeze on the back of the neck.

            “And how about we go out on a date? Actually talk to each other? Eat some food, that sort of thing?” Bucky suggested, before his brows pulled together. “Huh. Do you eat? Or, like, do I need to be your snack before we go out?”

            “I can eat,” Steve replied, his face in a thoughtful frown, ignoring Bucky’s surprised expression at that revelation while he was struggling to come to terms with what exactly the brunet was saying. “So, you actually, want to… go on a date with me?”

            Staring at the blond with eyes gone utterly serious, Bucky wondered what had happened in Steve’s existence that he seemed unable to believe such a thing, his voice completely hesitant and almost _wary_. “Well it’s that, or keep wandering around looking for you at night if you’re going to be a stubborn asshole, because now I know you’re at least somewhat interested and I’m the kind of stubborn asshole who won’t give up if there’s a chance, until the not so friendly neighborhood vamps decide to start munching on me. I think, or at least I _hope_ , we both want to avoid that outcome.”

            Steve stared into Bucky face, trying to read something beneath the relaxed, open expression. Trying to fathom how anyone at all, and this man in particular, could want to spend a moment more in his company. After the times he’d left Bucky without a word of explanation. After he’d unwittingly almost led to Bucky’s murder at the hands of another monster just like him. But it seemed Steve’s unsuccessful selflessness had reached its end.

            Running away from the shorter man in an attempt to save him clearly wasn’t working. Perhaps, just perhaps, Steve’s mind whispered in temptation, staying closer to the man would keep him safe. An improbable concept, he knew. But he no longer had the strength to walk away, not when Bucky was offering up himself, his time, his presence so freely. Steve, aching and alone, would take what he could get. Damn the consequences. And he’d pray he wasn’t damning them both in the process.

            “So. A date. What, uh, what exactly does that entail?” Seeing the wide, wide smile curving those intoxicating, addicting lips, Steve felt something throb in that spot where his heart should be. And knew there was no way he could turn back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the bad news. We've officially entered August, which is a nutso month for me. So, alas, my updates will no longer be quite so prolific. But please don't lose hope, lovely readers! I have definite plans for this story, and these two sexy men, and hope you will stick with them until the end of the line. (See what I did there?? Of course you did)  
> I shall write as much as I can, and as always, any positive comments you'd like to share really do bring me joy, and help inspire me to keep going! Either way, thank you so much for taking the time to read


	7. Chapter 7

“So. This is a date?” Steve questioned at length, brow furrowed in thought. Bucky rolled his eyes.

            “Hey, I sprung for the pizza, didn’t I?”

            Steve couldn’t argue with that. But… “I kind of thought we would go _out_.”

            At that, Bucky paused his arranging of pizza boxes, napkins, and drinks on the coffee table. He looked up to see Steve who was looking uncertain. Almost, _vulnerable_. And Bucky understood more than ever, as unusual as this situation was for him, Steve was clearly so far out of his depth he didn’t know what to make of it. A soft smile curling his lips, Bucky wrapped a hand around the back of Steve’s neck, pulling his down until their lips could touch.

            “Don’t worry. I’ll pull out all the stops if you’re lucky enough to get a date two. But tonight, I thought this would be better. Give us a chance to talk without interruption.”

            At that, unnatural blue eyes shot up to meet his, and Steve’s form tensed for a moment, before he blew out a quick breath. Nodded. Just the thought of whatever questions Bucky might have had anxiety spiking inside him. He feared that any one of a thousand truths about his existence could be the thing that would make the brunet turn away. In disgust, or perhaps, even worse in fear. Steve had already made a study of that exquisite face, committing each expression to memory so he could pull them out and remember each one, long after whatever this was, was over. And the one look Bucky had never worn was fear.

            It was a gift greater than any Steve had ever received, and couldn’t handle the thought that it could change. But he did want to reveal himself to Bucky. To share with him things he’d never told another person before. When Bucky had pursued him with a single minded focus unlike anything Steve had ever experiences, or ever felt deserving of, Steve in turn wanted to give Bucky anything and everything he could. He knew it would never be enough to repay the feeling Bucky had already given him – that for just a moment, he wasn’t a monster. That he was more. Someone capable of bringing this beautiful man pleasure. Someone, who for just an instant, might be _good_.

            Swallowing thickly, Steve managed a jerky nod. “Yeah, okay. That sounds good.” There was no disguising the anxiety he felt. Though Bucky watched him with serious, thoughtful eyes, Bucky didn’t comment. He just sat himself on one end of the couch, legs folded under him as he pulled out a slice of pizza, slid it onto a plate then held it out for Steve. Watching, completely relaxed, while Steve slowly sat on the other side of the couch, and took the plate. Staring down at the slice of pizza, a complex churn of emotions tangling inside of him, Steve exhaled. Picked it up, and took a bite. Before a moan pulled out of his chest at the explosion of flavor on his tongue. “Oh fuck,” he breathed. Steve managed to open the eyes that had fluttered shut at the incredible melding of cheese and sauce, to see Bucky grinning at him.

            “Good?” Bucky questioned. Steve nearly rolled his eyes at the understatement, but decided his effort was better spent taking another bite.

            “You have no idea,” Steve said. He saw the curiosity spike in those sharp blue gray eyes. And braced himself for the inevitable question. After all, he remembered only too well the countless questions he’d had, after… Surely Bucky had just as many. But Bucky only smiled, the expression nearly gentle as he grabbed his own slice of pizza. Deciding the waiting was almost worse than anything else, Steve cleared his throat. Looked down at his hands. “So. Uh. Talking?”

            “Right,” Bucky said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Steve. I just have to know… what’s your favorite color?”

            Eyes jerking back up, Steve saw Bucky watching him with a gaze that was both piercing and inscrutable. Revealing nothing of the thoughts he _knew_ were churning behind those unique eyes. “Seriously?” Steve demanded, with a shocked little laugh. “You’re sitting here. Having pizza with a, well, _me_. And that’s your opening question?”

            “I was _trying_ to be sensitive,” Bucky drawled. He took a sip from the beer he’d snagged from Steve’s fridge. “You know, warm you up first.”

            Steve did not resist the urge to roll his eyes this time. “Contrary to popular belief, we aren’t actually cold.” At his words, heat flickered within Bucky’s eyes, turning them darker.

            “No, you’re sure as hell not,” Bucky murmured, biting at his lower lip as his gaze dragged over Steve’s form leisurely.

            Trying to fight a blush, Steve cleared his throat. The frank appreciation he read so clearly in Bucky’s face still flustered him. He’d seen it before, and used it time and again, with the nameless individuals who sustained his existence. But to have Bucky see him for who, for _what_ he was, and still wear that look – Steve didn’t know how he could bear it. How to absorb the feeling of warmth that spread within him, proving that while he might not be alive, he was far from dead.

            “Seriously though. You can ask me. What you want to know.” Yes, the fear was there, that the repercussions of this conversation could wound him, if Bucky decided to turn away. Could make him wish the hurt sustained was fatal. At the same time, he found himself almost eager to answer Bucky’s questions. Needing to share himself with someone in a way he hadn’t in years – perhaps in a way he hadn’t ever.

            Seeming to consider, Bucky nodded decisively. “Okay. But that goes both ways. I ask you something, you get to ask me something. Fair is fair. Assuming you want to know anything,” he trailed off thoughtfully. Part of Steve felt he should argue, when Bucky had already given him so much. Yet he didn’t, not when Steve was so desperate for more of this fascinating human, who was unlike anyone he’d ever known in his years of existence. He wanted to know Bucky.

            Bucky stared off as he appeared to collect his thoughts, wading through an ocean of questions Steve could only guess at before he met Steve’s gaze once more. “So the eating thing. Do you need to eat food? I’m guessing you need blood? Do you have to have both?”

            Taking one last bite, sighing again over the taste which was pure nostalgia, Steve set aside the plate. “Blood, yes. Not as often as humans have to eat, but going several days without it is uncomfortable. I don’t need food at all, but I can handle small amounts of it. I haven’t eaten anything though for… a long time.”

            At that, Steve’s words trailed off, remembering the time when he’d refused to accept what he’d become. What he’d needed to exist. Steve had eaten until he’d made himself sick, the pain wracking his body devastating and inhuman. After that – he hadn’t consumed food since. No longer wanting the reminder of a life that wasn’t his anymore. Would never be again. And yet – Bucky had bought him pizza. And tasting it gave Steve back just a little bit of who he used to be.

            Bucky sat in silence. Absorbing the things Steve had said, and the things he hadn’t. Then nodded matter-of-factly. “Okay, your turn.”

            “What do you do Bucky?” It was the first question that leapt to his mind, as important as any other, and Steve watched almost hungrily as a smile tugged at those sculpted lips again.

            “You mean besides pick up supernatural entities at clubs?” Bucky laughed, his smile only growing when Steve chuckled with him.

            “Right now – just trying to figure out my next move really. I was in the military, and when I came back, wasn’t really ready to jump into the work force. My friend hooked me up with an editing job that I do from home, and it makes ends meet. Not what I want to do for forever, but until I figure out what that is… it works for now.”

            Steve nodded. He well understanding just taking one step at a time, then another, when the ones after that remained unclear. Running a hand through his hair, Bucky pulled his brow together. “Okay, what about the daylight thing? Do you burst in flames? Sparkle obnoxiously?”

            Casting his eyes to the ceiling, Steve muttered, “Fucking Twilight,” and bit back an unwilling smile at Bucky’s shout of laughter. “Neither, you asshole. We don’t go out at daytime, but it’s just because we’re too tired to.”

            That was clearly the last answer Bucky expected, eyes going wide. “What, too much partying? Crazy night life, biting necks left and right?” he demanded.

            Steve shook his head, adoring everything about the brunet in this moment, more than he should. But he was unable, and right now, unwilling to stop. Not when feeling something after feeling nothing for so long felt _good_. “No. For whatever reason, when the sun is up, it puts us into an almost coma-like state. The older you get, you can wake up a little earlier in the evening, stay up a little later in the morning. But being awake during the day is pretty much impossible.” As Steve pondered his follow up, Bucky propped his elbow on his knee, balancing his chin on his fist.

            “You know. I have to say, this is the most unusual first date conversation I’ve ever had.”

            “You and me both, buddy,” Steve said fervently. For himself, for more reasons than one. Yet, Bucky hadn’t turned away yet. And so Steve wouldn’t end it for anything. Rubbing the back of his neck, he decided there was no holding back at this point. “The night we met – why… Well. Why didn’t you-”

            “Run screaming the other direction?” Bucky supplied when Steve seemed unsure how, or unable to, finish the sentence. When Steve nodded, watching him with an expression that was expectant yet wary, Bucky gave a wry smile. Sighed. “Because for the first time in years, I felt alive. When I came back from serving, it felt like I was just getting through, hour to hour, day to day. Everything was just this haze, and I was just – existing. But from the second I saw you it was like…”

            Pausing, Bucky struggled for words. Searched for a way to make Steve understand. Perhaps it would reveal too much, but he was past the point of caring. “It was like I’d been sleeping walking, and finally I woke up. It didn’t matter that you were a vampire. It just mattered that you were _there_.” Clearing his throat when he saw the way Steve was staring, face gone slack, Bucky looked away. He bit as his lip. Before asking the question that meant more to him than any supernatural semantics. “And about last night. Why did you…”

            “Run away?” Steve finished quietly. Bucky nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. Seeing the flicker of hurt before it was quickly masked, Steve felt a painful jolt inside of him, realizing for the first time just what his actions had wrought. He’d never considered leaving, which he’d only done thinking it was for the best, would hurt the other man. Earlier, when Bucky had yelled at him, Steve had been too swamped by furious relief that the brunet had narrowly avoided certain, and certainly painful death, at Rumlow’s hands to even acknowledge the wrath being shot his way. But now, watching the way Bucky stared down at the carpet, he didn’t read anger in the other man. He could _feel_ the pain radiating from Bucky. And somehow, it became his own.

            Swearing roughly, he saw the way Bucky jerked in surprise, startled gaze lifting, eyes widening even further when Steve reached out, took a hand in his own. “I’m sorry,” Steve apologized, sincerity staining his voice. “After we were together, I wanted to stay more than I’ve wanted anything. But I thought spending time with you would only put you at risk.”

            Pausing, guilt stabbed at Steve. Because he knew it was still true. And yet he was, selfishly, still here with the human. When he should be removing all memories of himself. Leaving Bucky safe from the dark world that was only interested when he held the knowledge that made him a threat. Knowing it, Steve still couldn’t do it. Couldn’t erase himself from the only person who’d asked to remember him instead. “Also, I didn’t think you could really want me. So I took the cowards way out. And I left. I am sorry, Bucky.”

            When Bucky stared, lips parting, yet no words coming forth, Steve thought of something else. He smiled cautiously. “And it’s blue,” he offered, almost shyly. “My favorite color.” A fact that had always been true, but now staring into Bucky’s eyes, he knew their precise shade would forever be his favorite, a color he would try to recreate in his art for eons to come.

            Bucky continued to stare, and the silence was violent with things left unsaid. When Steve’s smile faded, and he started to pull his hand away, Bucky gripped it tight enough to stay the action. “You are an idiot, to think that anyone wouldn’t want you. But. I can’t keep chasing after you Steve. For one thing, I do eventually need to get some sleep in my life. But more importantly, while I’m stubborn enough to keep running after you, I won’t keep running after someone who’s running away forever.”

            Throat tight, Steve nodded. Even though it could only be a mistake, if by some miracle Bucky wanted him, he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m sorry,” he managed again. He saw the way that gorgeous mouth curved, before Bucky bit that distractingly lush bottom lip.

            “Oh yeah?” he spoke, lithely moving until he was straddling Steve’s lap, twining his arms around the blond's neck. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

            Of all the questions Bucky had asked that night, this one was the easiest to answer. “Why don’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This story started out as a smutty bonanza and turned into the feels fest. I have no idea what happened... But! Thank you for sticking with me, lovely readers. I cannot believe this fic has reached over 200 kudos!! I am so happy and so grateful for such an amazing response!! *Attempting a cartwheel in celebration. Falling on my face because I never actually learned how to cartwheel. Going back to what I'm actually good at - writing.* And as a reward, I promise the next chapter will be all the smut. >:D  
> As always, if you're enjoying this, I love hearing from you in a comment! It lights up my life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being home sick is lame. But being productive and putting out the next chapter is a good use of the free time! Please enjoy all the smut, as promised. >:D  
> As always, this fic continues to be inspired by the amazing In This Moment. Music rec for those lovely readers who want them - Scarlet. A gorgeous song, and while it doesn't *exactly* fit this story, it definitely conveys the feel of wanting someone you don't think you can have.

Standing abruptly, Steve smiled when Bucky made a little startled noise, then wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, more than willing to be carried away. Fisting a hand in that gorgeous hair that drove him crazy, Steve pulled those sculpted lips to his own, wasting no time licking straight into Bucky’s mouth. He moaned, because _fuck_ , Bucky tasted better than anything he’d ever know. Sweeter than wine, more addicting than blood, Steve knew he could spend several lifetimes drinking him in and never get enough.

            Easily holding up the brunet, he moved to his room, _needing_ to claim the other man in a way that was so primal it was pure instinct. Their first time, he’d been desperate to draw pleasure out of the man, sure it would be his only chance to touch something so beautiful. Yet now, knowing that Bucky was here by choice, wanted this, wanted _Steve_ , he had to take the man more than he needed his next breath. He wanted him on his bed so Steve could never sleep in it without dreaming of Bucky. Wanted to caress every inch of that body so Bucky could never touch his own skin without remembering Steve’s hands and mouth upon him.

            Once he’d moved them into this bedroom, Steve turned, and slammed Bucky against the wall, remembering with complete clarity the obscenely sexy whimper the man had let out the very first night. Wanting it again with a greed that was rewarded by the same noise ripping from the brunets throat, as Bucky arched grinding against Steve frantically. This time, the whimper was followed out by a moaning “Steve,” and fuck, nothing had ever sounded so incredible. He never wanted to hear his name on any other lips, never wanted it to be said any other way. Gritting his teeth against the pure pleasure jolting through him, Steve grasped that truly amazing ass in his hands, and rocked Bucky against him, the drag of their cocks through their jeans both exquisite and not nearly enough.

            Bucky’s head tipped back, resting against the wall as he gasped for air, and Steve lost no time in licking along the length of his neck, tasting his skin as he breathed in the intoxicating scent of the man. “Steve, please,” Bucky managed, his voice shaking, even as he tangled his fingers in short, soft blond hair, holding the man closer yet. “I want- _fuck_ …” he trailed off when Steve suddenly insinuated a hand between them, rubbing his palm over the length of his denim covered dick.

            “What do you want Bucky?” Steve breathed, nipping at Bucky’s ear, loving the way he could felt the other man’s cock twitch in desperate need at the sound of his voice, purposely pitched low, deep and gritty.

            “Fuck me, please, Steve,” Bucky begged, and yes, Christ, hearing those words in that lust stained voice tore his own patients to shreds. Grinding them together one more time, gratified by the way those strong thighs clenched around him, he effortlessly held Bucky up as he moved to the bed, kneeling on the mattress and bending forward until Bucky’s back hit the blankets. Even then, Bucky still clung to him, seeking any relief he could, and fuck he felt amazing moving so lithely against Steve. But knowing it would feel even better with significantly less layers between them, Steve gently broke the man’s hold on him, fucking adoring the needy little noises Bucky made at the loss.

            Licking his bottom lip, noting the way that already unfocused blue gray gaze traced the motion, Steve ripped his shirt off, nearly groaned at the way the other man’s hips bucked in reaction. When he pulled down the zipper of his jeans, freeing the aching length of his cock, Steve did groan when Bucky unexpectedly lurched up, and swallowed him down in one.

            “Fuck, Bucky,” he gasped, the feel of that sexy mouth moving over him pure sin. Hot and wet, Bucky pulled back to suck delicately at the sensitive tip, before taking Steve deep once more, his own moans vibrating through Steve’s cock. Clenching that messy, dark hair in his hands, Steve helplessly thrust once, twice, eyes shut tight against the glory of Bucky’s throat flexing around him. But as much as he wanted to pour himself into that greedily sucking mouth, he wanted to feel Bucky coming while he was inside him even more.

            Bucky gasped when he was flat on his back once more, Steve suddenly naked, clothes jerked off in motions too quick for him to see, and then he was attacking Bucky’s clothing with the same fury, until seconds later Bucky was hissing as that body lowered over his own, the heat of Steve searing him. Fuck, Steve was anything but cold, as he draped himself over Bucky, the muscled heat of him surrounding Bucky, and he loved it.

            Feeling the smaller man jolt as their naked cocks brushed up against each other, Steve smiled as he began a slow glide. Steve continued his work of drinking in every inch of Bucky as he began to brush his lips along Bucky’s neck, teasingly sucking small marks into soft skin that would fade in minutes. His hands, now free, began to slide over Bucky, tracing the line of his collarbone, rubbing down his taunt, flexing abdomen, up his sides, his fingers slotting perfectly between his ribs as though Bucky had been _designed_ for him, before tracing rippling muscles in those arms until their hands met, Bucky’s fingers instantly clinging to his.

            “Fuck, you are so gorgeous. So perfect,” Steve murmured, lips dragging over that sexy little cleft in Bucky’s chin. Mouth parting at the praise, Bucky let out a little moan, half agonized, half relieved when Steve released one hand, reaching to his night stand and pulling out a condom and a bottle of lube. “You’ll feel even more perfect on my cock, _fuck_ , I can’t wait to feel you,” Steve breathed, nipping at that trembling mouth when Bucky let out a keen. “And I want you to feel everything.”

            Pulling back, Steve saw Bucky’s brows pull together, but the brunet let himself be rolled over, understanding on his face when Steve manhandled him exactly where he wanted him, a pillow pressed under his hips, legs spread shamelessly. Slowly but firmly, Steve wrapped Bucky’s hands around the bars of his headboard, nipping at his shoulder as he did so.

            “Can you be good for me, leave those there?” Steve questioned, feeling arousal slice through him sharply when Bucky nodded immediately, his eyes wide as he looked over his shoulder at Steve, pupils already blown and expression completely wrecked. Fuck, he knew he’d never done anything good enough to deserve the staggering gift of Bucky spread out across his bed, body trembling and aching to be taken. Steve would do whatever it took to make sure Bucky never regretted his choice to be here. He was determined to make the brunet just as addicted to this as Steve already, irrevocably was.

            “Perfect,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the back of Bucky’s neck before he shifted, kneeling between Bucky’s legs. Running his hands up those powerful thighs that he wanted gripped around him once more - _later_ , he promised himself - Steve slowly palmed the curves of that absurdly perfect ass. H let his thumbs teasingly trace between, rubbing lightly over Bucky’s pretty little hole.

            Shuddering at the teasing touch, Bucky gripped the headboard tighter, the gorgeous muscles of his back standing out in stark relief. Steve made a little sympathetic, humming noise when Bucky pressed his ass harder into Steve’s hands, wordlessly pleading. “Is this what you want?” Steve asked softly, tracing his index finger around Bucky’s rim, before dipping just the slightest bit inside. Bucky’s groan all the answer he needed, Steve popped open the bottle of lube, coating his fingers before circling once more, waiting until the other man was practically vibrating with need before pressing one finger in.

            “Fuck,” Steve breathed, watching the amazing way Bucky arched back into him, body tight yet already giving away beautifully to his gently stroking finger. “Bucky, baby, you take it so amazing, I swear.” Pressing deep, Steve added a second finger, cock twitching as Bucky practically sobbed out a breath. Keeping up a stroking glide, until he could feel Bucky’s body begin to relax around him, he pressed a kiss to Bucky’s back, lapping at the sweat that shimmered on that gorgeous skin. Then Steve deliberately curled his fingers, grazing over Bucky’s prostate, and the brunet shouted hoarsely, whole body lurching. His wordless groans and gasps turned into a stream of obscene pleas.

            “Steve, Steve, please, fuck, fuck, I need you, fuck please,” Bucky babbled. Denied the ability to touch the blond, hands clenching on metal, all he could focus on was the feel of those fingers moving inside of him, sparking fire beneath his skin, need burning him alive. He cried out when those wicked fingers slid away, leaving him feeling empty, gaping. He was too far gone to hear the rip of the condom package as Steve quickly sheathed himself, rubbed slick over his cock, jaw clenching.

            Wiping his hand carelessly on the sheets, Steve blanketed the smaller man once more, hands hooking over Bucky’s shoulders, using the leverage to pull the brunet against him, and in one smooth stroke, he slammed home. The hoarse shout below him mingling with his own, Steve took no time to adjust to the feel of Bucky flexing convulsively around him, before he was moving.

            Fuck, feeling Bucky squeezing him so tightly, the way Bucky gasped out air, the noises riding the edge of pain yet drowning in sensual pleasure, it threatened to finish Steve before he’d begun. Yet as much as he craved his own release, he _needed_ Bucky’s. Needed to cause the other man ecstasy, never ending and consuming. “Fuck, you feel so damn incredible,” he groaned, swore again when Bucky clenched harder around him. Suddenly, he needed to see the other man’s face. Wanted to witness the pleasure crashing over Bucky’s features. “Baby, I want you to ride me.”

            “Jesus,” Bucky whimpered, head falling forward to hit the mattress. But yes, _yes_ , he wanted that too. Feeling the questioning kiss Steve pressed to his shoulder, he nodded, then bit out a groan when Steve fucked into him with one more long, hard stroke, before reluctantly sliding out. Having just enough presence of mind to let go of the bars he’d been gripping so hard they left indents in his palms, he’d no more than blinked before Steve was stretched out below him, Bucky hovering over his body, held up effortlessly by the strength of Steve’s hands on his hips, his own braced against the Steve’s chest.

            “God, you’re beautiful,” Bucky breathed as he flexed his fingers over the heavily muscled pecs, the feel of Steve’s flesh an incredible contrast, hot and giving after the cold unyielding iron. He saw with some measure of surprise a darker red staining Steve’s already flushed face. Yet before he could spare too much thought wondering at it, at how such a stunning creature could seem discomfited by any sort of compliment, Steve was angling his hips, nudging at him with his dick until he slid back into Bucky, hands implacably holding Bucky helpless until he was fully impaled.

            Head tipping forward, Bucky sucked air in between clenched teeth, Steve feeling impossibly larger in this position, his thighs spread around those hips enhancing the stretch that was nearly painful. Yet when Steve began to move, holding Bucky in place as he began to thrust up into him, the pain was only pleasure, feeling the blond surging in and out of this body, rim fluttering helplessly against the intrusion. Fingers digging deep into muscle, Bucky bit his lip when Steve let out a groan, and experimentally dragged his fingers down the blond’s chest, finger nail catching one small nipple. Bucky moaned when Steve swore, and fucked into him faster.

            Heat pooling low within him, Bucky cried out when Steve tilted his hips just the slightest bit, and suddenly that surging cock was dragging over his prostate. “Steve, fuck, right there-” he sobbed out, rewarded when Steve intently maintained the angle, pleasure so sharp it was nearly pain shoving him towards his release. Shouting when with one last snap of his hips, Steve pushed him over the edge, Bucky came hard, his cock spurting streams of come on Steve’s chest, eyes clenched in an agony of sensation.

            When he suddenly felt Steve’s hand, unexpectedly gentle, tuck his damp waving hair behind his ear, than cup his face, Bucky managed to open his eyes. He watched the man staring up at him with an expression of near _awe_ , and seeing it on that beautiful face, knowing he’d caused it if he didn’t understand how he could, Bucky’s cock twitched again, feeling like he was going to come all over again while his first orgasm wasn’t even _finished_.

            More frantic than ever, Steve thrust up into Bucky’s body, the feel of the brunet’s release triggering his own, and he surged up, once, twice more before tensing, shouting as he lost himself inside the other man. Steve’s climax tore through him in a blaze, scorching away everything other than this moment, and this man. Their gazes stayed locked on one another the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers, thank you as always for sticking with me and this smutty/feels explosion of a fic! My plans of where this story's headed are firming up a bit, so now that these guys realize they actually want to try and make this work, we can move on to what will happen next. No matter what, a human and a vampire pairing will by anything but simple.  
> If you're enjoying this, I love love love to hear from you in comments! Either way, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musical recommendation - Flyleaf "All Around Me".

When Bucky woke, it was to a scene that was horribly familiar. The room wasn’t one he knew, although he had vague recollections of the wall color from his peripheral vision the evening before. The bed wasn’t his, but that he recognized better – even now, he recalled how the cold bars of the wrought iron headboard had felt in his desperately clenching hands. The thing that he _did_ recognized with complete clarity, was the feeling of waking up in a bed, alone. What. The actual fuck.

            Shoving into a sitting position, pushing back the tangled hair that fell in his eyes, Bucky scanned the room. Noted the lack of both Steve, and Steve’s clothes. Scowled. There was no _way_ Steve could have left him again. After all, this time it would mean Steve was so desperate to get away, he’d jumped ship, in his own apartment. Bucky _wanted_ to believe Steve wouldn’t leave him yet again, after the night before. After the intimacy of the things they’d revealed, to say nothing of the physical closeness they’d shared. Particularly when, this time, he knew it wasn’t just him that had been affected.

            When Bucky had finally collapsed forward, draped across Steve in complete, blissful exhaustion, Steve had only wrapped his arms around Bucky, holding him closer still in an embrace that almost felt possessive. Caring. It had felt wonderful. So much so that it had taken Bucky long minutes to work up the strength of will to stir, lift up his head to meet Steve’s incredible blue gaze. He’d forced out the words that were the last he wanted to say. “I should probably get going.”

            Steve’s response had been instant, and poignant, and everything he’d wanted to hear. “Stay.” Nodding, feeling almost shy, which was ridiculous consider how thoroughly they had just wrecked one another, Bucky had sighed inaudibly when Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead. He let the blond roll him onto this back, and nodded obediently at the reiterated command to stay put, before Steve had disappeared for an instant. He’d reappeared with a wash cloth, and gently cleaned Bucky off, his expression was tender in a way that had Bucky’s chest aching. Before he’d climbed back into bed, shuffling Bucky around until he was tucked under the blankets, and in Steve’s arms once more. Where the blond’s warmth and steady, slow breaths slid him effortlessly into sleep.

            Bucky would like to _think_ an explicit invitation to stay would entitle him not be ditched like a bad one night stand. Besides, this technically would be a three night stand. Or, at the very least, two and a half. Either way, if Steve had left him again… Rolling off the mattress, wincing as the movement sent a twinge of paint through him that hurt in the best possible way, Bucky snagged his boxer briefs off the floor, wiggled into them before opening the bedroom door. Walking in the apartment, braced to be hurt all over again, Bucky knew this time he wouldn’t be able to channel his feelings into anger nearly as easily.

            Bucky nearly staggered at the rush of relief that practically leveled him when he saw Steve standing in the kitchen. Grabbing the wall to steady himself, Bucky sucked in a breath, shocked that Steve was actually here, but more stunned by the pure elation surging in him. It wasn’t natural, how he was affected. How quick Steve had come to matter. And yet, when Steve glanced over, that otherworldly face lighting up as a grin spread across those incredible features, Bucky knew he didn’t fucking care.

            “Morning, sleepyhead,” Steve teased, beckoning Bucky over when he continued to blink owlishly as Steve.

            “It’s not even morning yet,” Bucky grumbled, trying to keep the emotion still coursing so strongly through him from staining his voice. The sky outside only held the lights of the city below, the view as spectacular as it had been when he’d first walked into Steve’s home, what now felt like ages ago. But that wasn’t the view he cared about, once more only having eyes for Steve. Steve, who was _here_. Stumbling over on feet that weren’t yet quite steady, Bucky took in the sight that met his eyes.

            “You made… pancakes?”

            Dressed in pajama bottoms, his top half distractingly bare, Steve stood at the stove, manning a spatula with a surprising amount of skill for a paranormal creature that didn’t need to eat, flipping a perfect golden pancake off the skillet and onto an already impressive stack. Picking up the plate, he turned, pressed an absent kiss to Bucky’s forehead before gently pressing the plate into his surprised hands.

            “Everyone deserves great sex and pancakes,” Steve replied offhandedly, smile still tugging at his face as he reached into his fridge, grabbed orange juice and poured a glass. Then he helpfully steered Bucky over to the table, where syrup, butter and silverware were already set out. A thousand feeling ran through Bucky. Longing, at such a homey, comforting scene, as though this were his life – breakfast with the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

            Overcome, his throat clenched painfully at how Steve had obviously gone to such effort to do this for Bucky. When digging for plates for their pizza the evening before, Bucky had noted the lack of food anywhere in the vampires kitchen. Logical, seeing as how Steve didn’t need it. Which made it only all the more wonderful he’d gone out to get some, for Bucky. Unable to think of a single thing to say that wouldn’t betray the distressingly emotional tilt of his equilibrium right now, Bucky sat down. Forked up a bite of pancakes. And let out a blissful moan.

            “Oh my God. These are fantastic.”

            Turning off the stove, Steve came to sit across from Bucky, tangling their bare feet companionably together beneath the table. “Good, I’m glad. I haven’t made those in a while, so I wasn’t sure how they’d turn out.”

            Glancing down at the stack he’d already half plowed through, Bucky pointed with his fork. “You want some?” Steve only smiled, shook his head. Bucky took a slower bite, his expression thoughtful.

            “So, uh…” Steve cocked a brow at the unusual show of hesitation from the brunet. Bucky was many things. Tentative wasn’t generally one of them – at least not in Steve’s short but intense experience with the man.

            “Yes?”

            “Are you, um, hungry? Thirsty? Is that the right term?” Bucky mused aloud, watching Steve’s face carefully. Wondering just what the dinning etiquette with a vampire was.

            Steve’s eyes crinkled with his smile before it faded a little. “Thirsty works well enough. And I’m fine. Nothing you need to worry about.”

            “Last night, you didn’t…” Bucky trailed off. He remembering well the way Steve’s eyes had gone pure ebony the night before. How he’d braced, expected, _anticipated_ the feel of teeth sinking deep. Yet it had never come. And now, with all the what ifs a hurricane in his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder why. If it meant something that the blond hadn’t.

            Reaching across the table, Steve took his hand, gave it a squeeze, waited for Bucky to meet his gaze once more before he spoke. “Because I didn’t want you to think that’s all you are to me.”

            Oh. Blinking, Bucky bit his lip. He considered, and took the opening for the opportunity it was. Bucky may have zero experience working through the beginnings of a relationship with a vampire, but semantics ought to be discussed.

            “So I’m thinking, there are things we need to talk about. Some we didn’t get around to last night, before we were, shall we say, _distracted_.” When Steve’s breath caught ever so slightly at the word, and he licked at his plush bottom lip, Bucky found himself in danger of getting distracted once more, but forced his unruly thoughts back in line.

            “What do you want to talk about?” Steve questioned, his own gaze lingering on Bucky’s mouth, and seriously, that was doing nothing to help. Clearing his throat, Bucky shoved a hand through his hair.

            “Well, for one, what we are exactly?” A mood killer if there ever was one, Bucky was fully aware demanding definitions was the number one cause of potential significant others turning tail and running. Not a question he’d typically be asking for at this stage of the game. But, to be fair, he normally hadn’t been threatened with _death_ by a potential significant others acquaintance at this stage of the game either, so thought the situation called for some leeway.

            “I’d say, we’re dating. If that’s the right word you crazy kids have for it these days,” Steve smirked, and Bucky managed to successfully hide the completely ridiculous jolt of elation by rolling his eyes.

            “As opposed to you ancient creatures of the night. Alright, dating, I can deal with that.” He could _so_ deal with that. “So does that mean I do actually get your phone number? I’m sure you’d be more comfortable with telegraphs or something, but cell phones are so much more convenient. Us crazy kids can’t live without them.”

            Steve laughed aloud at that, head tipping back before he shook it, grinning at Bucky. “Yeah, I think that can be arranged. That way you don’t have to keep wandering around at night, stalking me.”

            “Please. I was _not_ stalking you. Searching with intent, perhaps, but not stalking. Perfectly legal, and not creepy at all.”

            “Uh huh,” Steve said, unconvinced, grinning once more when Bucky gave him a shove.

            “Hey, obviously you didn’t mind, if you’re dating me now,” Bucky retorted. Steve looked thoughtful before shrugging.

            “Well, it was that, or filing a restraining order. And I really hate paperwork.” Frowning in mock outrage, Bucky got to his feet, braced his hands on his hips.

            “If that’s how I’m going to be treated, I think I’ll just go find another paranormal creature to date. I bet a nice werewolf would know how to appreciate a man,” he decided. Bucky blinked when he abruptly found himself wrapped up in an unbreakable, heated embrace.

            “Mm, they’d just shed all your furniture,” Steve replied, leaning down to brush his lips over Bucky’s. “So why don’t I save you the trouble of stalking someone new and use the next-” a pause as Steve glanced over at the clock. “Forty seven minutes to show you just how appreciated you are.”

            Right. Sunlight induced vampire coma. That was a thing. Bucky could see some serious adjustments in his sleeping schedule occurring in the near future to accommodate this relationship.   Yet when Steve boosted him up until Bucky wrapped his legs around the blond, and carted him straight back to his bedroom, Bucky had the feeling, it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! I'm glad I was able to get this up this weekend, since I'll be off for a birthday trip to Chicago next weekend. (If anyone has fun Chicago recommendations, totally appreciated!) Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and it tides you over until I can update again! As always, if you like what you read, I LOVE to read your comments :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I'm finally back with a new chapter! I say finally, it's only been a week. But what a week. Thanks for the birthday wishes, it was a lovely trip to Chicago. It was tough without my trusty lap top though, so I'm very glad to be back and writing. Especially because this fic hit 300 kudos and I'm freaking out!! *insert a lot of flailing and happy noises* Every one of you who have read and liked this story so far - you are the best! On that note, please enjoy this chapter!

Bucky had lived in the day, yet for months now, things had never felt darker. Shades of gray blurred the edges, nothing as defined and real as they should be. As they had been before he’d went away. He knew it was the war he’d brought back with him, which still waged within him, turning life into a monochromatic, endless, aching blur. Shadows ready to consume him in his waking moments, the only potential reprieve sleep, where time and again his demons pulled him further down. Lives he’d been forced to take, exacting their revenge, each kill making sure he was unable to ever fully live his life again.

            Living at night, when darkness descended on the world, Bucky had discovered this is where the light was kept. Reds and blues were more acute, every second sharper, it was like he’d been in a water color dream. And he’d finally woken up. All because of Steve. Seeing the city with him at his side was like seeing everything for the first time. And it was a beautiful place.

            That transition hadn’t been as difficult as he’d braced for. Though he had a feeling that made more to do with how fucking _cute_ Steve was when he slept. Something Bucky didn’t want to miss while he was off living his life in the day time. Bucky had been more than surprised to discover that the blond was a sleeping snuggler. After making good on his promise to make Bucky feel appreciated (and he fucking had, Jesus), Steve had pulled him close, breath evening out. Voice soft, beginning to slur as he told Bucky he was welcome to stay. Before Steve had dropped off to sleep so abruptly Bucky understood the coma reference a bit better. Which was all well and good, except for the fact he abruptly found himself being aggressively cuddled by two hundred pounds of supernatural perfection, that couldn’t be woken for anything, and clearly had no intention of letting go.

            It was sweet. Heartwarming even, the way any time Bucky tried to stir, Steve only shifted closer, wrapped around the brunet like a particularly affectionate octopus. Who snuffled quietly as he buried his face in Bucky’s hair. Charming, but problematic. As tempting as it was to give in, and laze the day away in Steve’s arms, not only did Bucky have actual work he needed to get done, more compelling were the physical demands of being human making themselves known, and that was something that definitely couldn’t wait for the sun to go down.

            Using more stealth, cunning, and bendiness than any tactical maneuver in his time as a sniper, Bucky finally managed to wiggle his way free of the most enticing confinement he’d ever been subjected to. Watching the slight pout of Steve’s sleeping face, before the blond burrowed even further into the blankets, Bucky just knew the expression on his own face was disgustingly sappy. He didn’t feel too bad about it though, when there was no one around to witness it.

            Casting one last glace at Steve, Bucky finally picked up his clothes that were scattered over the floor like confetti, and dressed before taking the time to set the kitchen to rights. He thoughtfully wondered about the fact Steve hadn’t had any food in the house last night, yet he’d had a kitchen full of pots, pans and dishes. A reminder of a past he’d never reclaim, but couldn’t let go? Biting his lip, heart aching at something so simple as flatware that looked like it had never once been used, Bucky handled the dishes with care as he put them away.

            It was just one more thing he wanted to know about Steve, Bucky’s need to discover everything about the man only growing. With that in mind, it was tempting to poke curiously through Steve’s home, drink it each clue that might unravel the enigma that was Steve, yet he knew that would take him past polite stalking, into full on creeper territory. Instead, Bucky quietly let himself out, making sure the door locked behind him, before walking home in contemplative silence, mind struggling to grasp the way his life had changed in the past forty-eight hours.

            Once Bucky reached home, he’d managed to plow through a pile of work needing editing. And if he happened to think of his gorgeous lover one out of every three minutes, well, he was a spectacular multitasker. There was no denying the thrill he felt when the sun finally set, and his phone pinged with a text. Nor could he deny the snorting laugh he let out, in appreciation of his own cleverness when the screen flashed the name Count Chocula. Bucky had never claimed to possess a maturity beyond that of an eight year old. Enjoyment of his own sense of humor was quickly outstripped by appreciation for his immortal lovers, at Steve’s text.

_Steve 6:13 PM_

_Tried to compose a telegraph for you, but apparently the technology needed to send it is all located at the Smithsonian. Shame. Regardless, I wanted to ask, may I see you tonight?_

            If Bucky was grinning again, his expression excruciatingly sappy, well, no one else had to know about it. Immediately inviting Steve over, he’d barely managed to work his features into more acceptable lines when the knock came at his door, a meager minute later. Struggling manfully to keep from looking straight up smug at the knowledge either Steve could literally teleport, Star Trek style, or he’d already been close by in the hopes Bucky wanted to see him.

            While he still idly wondered if the blond had somehow compelled Bucky to him, making him addicted to Steve in a way Bucky had never experienced before, it was reassuring to know he wasn’t alone in his fascination. The sensation was only further confirmed when upon Bucky opening the door, Steve stepped into him, wrapping the shorter man in powerful arms, and simply held him. Letting his eyes fall closed, Bucky tangled his fingers in silky soft hair when Steve tucked his face in the curve of Bucky’s neck, holding the other man tighter yet.

            Maybe this was all too fast, maybe it was too soon, maybe it made no sense that vampires were real, and Bucky was gripping one as tight as his mortal arms could manage. But he didn’t care. Not when in that unbreakable embrace, he finally felt _okay_ once more. Like existing wasn’t a struggle. And when it was achingly clear that Steve had been just as alone, just as starved for comfort and kindness as he, Bucky couldn’t care less what the world might think. Not when they found what they needed in each other. “Okay,” he said quietly, hand stroking soothingly down Steve’s back. “Okay.”

            And so that was it. There was no turning back, and Bucky wouldn’t have wanted to, given the chance. Not when he’d fought this hard for the chance just to be near Steve. Neither man spent another day alone, sleeping tangled in each other’s arms. Bucky had discovered to his shock, wrapped protectively in Steve’s embrace, his own nightmare didn’t hunt him as ruthlessly, didn’t tear at him with jagged teeth so roughly. The first time he’d woken from a nightmare while with the other man, sweat slicking his skin and a scream caught in his throat, he’d been stunned to see improbable blue eyes blink open, Steve looking at him with naked concern despite the obvious drowsiness that slurred him voice.

            “You’re okay Bucky,” he’d breathed, tugging Bucky closer yet. Pressing his lips to Bucky’s hair in a tender kiss, Steve had settled back into sleep only when Bucky’s muscles had lost their tension, melting trustingly into the embrace.

            The next day, Steve had quietly asked Bucky about it. And rather than deflecting, or denying, for the first time since he’d put down his gun for the last time and flown a half a world away from that desert, Bucky talked about the ghosts that haunted him. Steve had listened silently, sorrow and understanding reflecting in his eyes. Before pulling Bucky into his arms, and holding him with such care, Bucky felt he was being adored with each touch of those strong hands. As Steve stamped kisses over every inch of his skin, each press of those perfect, soft lips easing pain inside of Bucky he didn’t even know he’d been carrying, Bucky felt the breath tremble out of him. And he considered that maybe he wasn’t just obsessed with, or fascinating by Steve. Maybe he was falling in love with him.

            After that, Bucky’s ghosts didn’t haunt him nearly as often. When he dreamed now, he most often dreamed of Steve. He was grateful, when there was nothing he wanted to dream about more. Bucky was more appreciative yet, that his waking hours spent with Steve were even better than anything his sleeping mind could conjure. For the first time in months, Bucky was _happy_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - feelsy. I know. But! Expect the introductions of some new characters soon, spicy encounters, Steve's actual age reveal, and some intense Natasha backstory. As always, if you're still enjoying sticking with this story, I love to hear from you :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot, I'm so happy to be home and writing again! I feel bad neglecting The Cute Guy In 2B, but this story has been pulling at me too much to be denied. (Fear not, readers of TCG, I'll come back to it I promise) Anywho, this had become a feels explosion, I've given in to that, and updated the tags accordingly. Also, for the last several chapters, this fic has not been beta'd, so apologies for any mistakes. I do the best I can! :)  
> Song Recommendation - In This Moment, "World In Flames"

Sitting on the counter, Steve absently let his feet swing, heels tapping against the cupboards as he watched Bucky moving through the kitchen, absently singing along to the music playing in the living room. He’d been working at his desk, inking in a drawing he’d sketched out the previous night, a street scene, full of movement, sharp edges, and energy. The figure in it was drawn from behind, head turned just enough to reveal the sharp edge of a jaw, long hair caught in a frozen breeze. The lines of Bucky were unmistakable, Steve unable to resist capturing him on paper time and again since the man had lit up the dark night of his life like a firework rocketing into the sky, shocking, explosive, and beautiful.

            After all, it was with Bucky at his side that Steve had been able to recognize the beauty in the city he’d loved his whole life, yet forgotten somewhere along the way. Long nights walking the streets, visiting bars, restaurants and coffee shops. Every single time, Bucky had asked Steve, endlessly, what he used to like. When Steve admitted he hadn’t thought about it in so long, he was no longer sure, Bucky had stared at him with dark eyes. Seeming to understand without being told that Steve had tried his best to forget that part of a life he no longer lived. Then Bucky had proceeded to order something new every time, insisting Steve try a bite. And he never forgot which things Steve decided were his favorites now.

            It was foolish, Steve knew. For Bucky to care so much about his preferences when he only could have a taste at most of the food Bucky actually needed. Yet, incomprehensibly, Bucky _did_ care. He always ordered things he thought Steve would like the most, the two of them sharing a plate. Every time Bucky displayed his care for Steve in this way, Steve could feel an ache deep inside him. He was sure if he’d still had a heart that lived, it would beat for this man who was stealing his every waking thought.

            It had been impossible to keep his fixation from spilling over into his art, Bucky’s hair, his face, those eyes, appearing on paper and canvas. Steve’s first thought had been right – he couldn’t capture that arresting shade of blue gray just right. Yet with each attempt, he felt he was closer to unlocking… _something_. As though if Steve could recreate it, he’d understand all the mysteries of the man who fascinated him as nothing and no one ever had.

            The first time Bucky had noticed Steve drawing him, attempting to depict someone so perfect with something as simple as straight and curving lines, his brows had drawn together thoughtfully. Steve had worried he’d crossed a line, the boundaries in this relationship they’d stumbled into uncertain, when he’d never done anything like this before. But before Steve could stutter out an apology, Bucky had pulled him into a kiss so passionate, his pencil and sketchbook had gone flying, and after that, he didn’t worry that Bucky was an unwilling muse.

            Today however, Bucky had simply stepped up behind Steve, nuzzling into his neck, pressing a lingering kiss on suddenly heated skin before saying he was cooking some dinner. And so, of course, Steve had set aside his paintbrush, and joined him in the kitchen.

            The two of them could be apart, of course. They did spent time apart, when Bucky wanted to work on his editing without interruption, or when Steve had a particularly harsh deadline. Yet when neither of those situations were the case, Steve didn’t _want_ to be apart. So here he sat, watching quietly and happily as Bucky moved through his kitchen, the aromas of whatever he was preparing divine.

            They’d discovered at approximately the same time Steve’s cooking skills began and ended with pancakes. But Bucky didn’t mind, enjoying cooking, particularly when he had such nice scenery, he’d told Steve with a raised eyebrow and wink, laughing aloud when the blond blushed. Now, he stepped between Steve’s parted legs, a sweet smile on that wickedly sculpted mouth, as held a spoon up to Steve’s lips. Obediently parting them, Steve’s eyes closed involuntarily at the taste that exploded upon his tongue. Incredible, only surpassed by the taste of Bucky himself. “What is that?” he demanded, tugging the spoon away, to Bucky’s delight, and licking it clean.

            Laughing, Bucky opened the silverware drawer and grabbed a fresh spoon before turning back to his sauce, stirring it as it bubbled away on the stove. “Secret Barnes family recipe,” he teased. “My mom used to make it for my birthday, every year.” His voice had gone soft, and Steve bit his lip, the ever present ache inside him growing sharper. Steve recalled the conversation where Bucky, lying next to him, had quietly told him about the family he’d had. The family he’d lost. How the resulting aloneness was what had convinced him to join the military, travel far away, when he’d had no one left to stay for.

            Yet before he could speak, try to offer some comfort, Bucky turned back to him, and Steve saw rather than sorrowful, his eyes were thoughtful. “When is your birthday? I never asked. I don’t know if you celebrate it, but, I’d like to. Celebrate yours.”

            Steve blinked. Bucky never failed to surprise him. “My birthday?” he repeated, the grin sliding across that stunning face not helping him in the least as he attempted to gather his scattered thoughts.

            “Granted, maybe they didn’t have calendars back in your day. In the stone age. You are pretty massive, I could see you rocking the whole caveman thing.” Laughing aloud when Bucky’s eyes narrowed speculatively, no doubt imagining Steve in a leopard skin loin cloth, Steve gave him a shove.

            “I’m not a caveman, you asshole,” he retorted, even as he grinned. He was unexpectedly delighted by the never ending teasing Bucky gave him about his age, the subject of his immortality one he never thought he’d be able to find humor in. Until Bucky. “And it’s July fourth.”

            “Oh my God. The fourth of July? Seriously? Wait, you _had_ to have been hanging with the founding fathers. Killed some red coats, freed America, all that jazz?”

            Clutching his chest as helpless laughter poured out of him, Steve wiped at his eyes when Bucky came back to stand between his legs, warm hands resting on his thighs, a mock solemn expression pulling over his face.

            “Steven Grant Rogers,” he began formally, as Steve sucked in deep breaths to calm himself down.

            “Yes Bucky?” he replied, smiling still.

            “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. You fuck me pretty damn regularly-”

            “And damn well,” Steve interjected, saw Bucky struggle to keep his lips from tilting up.

            “No argument there,” Bucky agreed readily, eyes wide and serious. “And I’d say all that entitles me to know. How old are you?”

            “Really, Buck? All that build up for that?” Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes, even as he felt delighted by every single thing about the brunet in that moment.

            “Well, you know how I like to warm you up first,” Bucky shrugged. “Seriously though. I suck your dick pretty damn regularly-”

            “And really fucking well,” Steve said, his voice more fervent than before.

            “Obviously. So I think that entitles me to know how old the dude I’m blowing is.”

            Well, who could argue with logic like that. Not that Steve wanted to argue with Bucky regardless. No, instead he waged a constant internal war of not giving the man any and everything he could ever want, in a sad effort to keep him from ever growing tired of Steve. It was a little pathetic.

            “I’m thirty four,” Steve replied. He watched as Bucky rolled his own eyes, and sighed.

            “Oh God, you’re going to force me to quote Twilight again. You and this movie, I swear… Alright fine. How long have you been seventeen, oh sparkly one?”

            Steve didn’t resist his own eye roll this time, or the urge to poke the other man in the ribs. Who scowled and rubbed the resulting bruise. Okay, maybe he’d poked harder than intended. But Steve really did hate Twilight.

            “I really am thirty four, jerk. Born in 1982. I’ve even got the birth certificate to prove it.”

            “But, you – I didn’t – how long…” Bucky trailed off, all traces of humor gone as he stared at Steve in shock. Falling still, uncertain how to read this reaction, Steve carefully took Bucky’s hands from his legs, held them in his own.

            “What is it Bucky?” he questioned, almost wary to ask, yet more wary of whatever thoughts were churning behind those gorgeous eyes. And which direction they might push the man – towards Steve, or away.

            Closing the mouth that had been hanging open in shock, Bucky gave a slight shake of his head, before turning away, stirring the pot on the stove once more. Steve abruptly understood the question that was being silenced. Because he’d seen in in Bucky’s eyes a thousand times since they’d started this incredible, impossible relationship, and each time the brunet bit it back. Whether it was because Bucky didn’t want to push Steve for answers he didn’t want to give, or he himself wasn’t prepared for what the answer might be, Steve didn’t know. But he could see, now, was the time to offer it regardless.

            “Ten years ago.” At the softly spoken words, Bucky tensed visibly. Aware of Bucky slowly turning back to him, Steve stared down at his own hands. Unsure he was ready to see how Bucky reacted to it. “I was twenty four when I…. changed. Became what I am now.”

            It wasn’t until fingers skimmed along his jaw, buried in this hair, and tugged gently but insistently that Steve met Bucky’s gaze. He saw nothing but compassion, and a desire to understand in that glue gray gaze.

            “Will you tell me what happened?”

            Steve hesitated. In part because he’d never told anyone this story, the tragedy and pain of it private, and his alone. But more, because he couldn’t fathom a human as kind and wonderful as Bucky could care for Steve as he was now – inhuman, not alive. The idea that Bucky would ever have accepted him as he’d been before… it was one he couldn’t entertain.

            And yet… Bucky had given him so much. Not just the physical contact that Steve had been starved for, and felt selfish for accepting even that much from someone who was the light when Steve knew he was the dark. But the caring for him as an individual – it was that kindness that had Steve hesitantly believing once more that he might have value on this planet after all. If someone as good as Bucky chose _him_ , and if he could make Bucky smile in return, he knew he was meant for something more than loneliness and never ending guilt.

            Inhaling deeply, taking strength from the scent of Bucky curling around him, sexy and gorgeous and comforting all at once, Steve slid down from the counter. He captured Bucky’s hand so the man walked with him into his living room after turning off the stove. Steve paused by one of the shelves, and pulled out a picture frame from where it had been hidden behind a stack of books. Staring down at it, the photo angled away from Bucky’s curious eyes, Steve felt emotion surge through him. The pain that never dulled, the sharp blade of it as unchanged by time as he. Eternal and unending, the two of them.

            Looking up at Steve’s face, Bucky didn’t interrupt his thoughts. Instead, he tugged Steve towards the couch so they could sit, knees touching, hands still clasped. Nearly undone by the quiet support, just one more display of how much Bucky cared, Steve cleared his throat. “Growing up, it was just me and my mom. My dad had died when I was young, I don’t really remember him. But my mom – she was amazing. I never felt like I was missing out. We were a team.”

            Meeting Bucky’s eyes now, Steve swallowed painfully. “I tried to help out the best I could, be the man of the house, that sort of thing. But I’d always been really small, weak. I was sick a lot. And all the doctor’s visits, the medication, the hospital stays, they were expensive. It was hard. She never complained though – not once.”

            “She sounds amazing,” Bucky said softly, lifting his free hand to wrap gently around the back of Steve’s neck, reading both the love in the other man’s voice, and the naked grief carved into his features. Bucky wanted to provide comfort any way he could. Even as his mind tried to wrap around the idea of a Steve that was small, was humanly fragile. He felt his own heart beat in useless panic at the idea, when his Steve was sitting here, indestructible, and very much alive. Perhaps not in the typical way, but Bucky didn’t care. Not when Steve was _here_.

            “She was.” Steve’s voice caught, nearly broke. But he forced himself to continue, wanting this out. Wanting someone to _know_. “Then she got sick. Cancer. With money so tight, she didn’t go to the doctor soon enough. By the time they discovered it – there was no treatment that would help. She died when I was twenty two.”

            “I’m so sorry Steve,” Bucky whispered, tightening his grip on Steve’s hand when the blond let out a shuddering breath. He hated to imagine Steve all alone.

            “After that, I tried to get by the best I could. But making ends meet wasn’t easy, when I was sick so often. I came down with pneumonia, and I couldn’t afford to go to the doctors. I thought was I was going to die this time, was sure of it. But I managed to leave the house, to try and get some medicine from the store. And on my way home…” When Steve trailed off, Bucky felt his own breath catching painfully. He pulled Steve into his arms, wrapping the larger man in an embrace with all the strength he had, needing to provide relief so badly it was a physical ache. Resting his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder, Steve absorbed the warmth emanating from the brunet. Breathing that scent that both incited him and soothed him all at once.

            “After that, things were easier, and harder. The life I’d always known was over. But so were a lot of the struggles.” He didn’t say that all he’d done was unwillingly trade them for a whole new set. When he drew back, met Bucky’s swimming gaze, he understood that he didn’t have to. Bucky heard the words he spoke, and more, somehow, the ones he didn’t.

            “But you’re… okay now? You won’t get sick?” That ache in Steve’s chest turned into outright pain, at the fear he heard in Bucky’s voice. For _him_. Managing a smile, Steve shook his head.

            “I’m okay. The change, it makes you… the most perfect physical version of yourself, I guess? So no, I won’t get sick.” This time Bucky dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder for a moment and he drew himself together, before he nodded, his relief stark on his face.

            “Okay. Okay,” Bucky repeated to himself. Before he glanced down at the frame still clutched in Steve’s hand, pressed protectively to his chest. He looked back up into blue eyes that were unexpectedly shy.

            “This is my mom and I. Taken when I was about twenty.”

            Taking the hesitantly offered picture with careful hands, Bucky stared into the colored print. He found himself dazzled by a face for the second time in his life. Steve was _beautiful_. Significantly smaller, the Steve of the photo stood beaming next to a stunning blonde woman, their features so similar the relation was undeniable. They were both grinning, intense blue eyes arresting, golden blond heads tipped towards each other. Steve was all pale skin, lean angles, and plush, pink lips. Bucky was staggered. The Steve he sat beside now incited every primal instinct in him, made him want to surrender everything to the bigger man. Yet the Steve of the photo ripped a protective instinct out of him that he hadn’t even known he possessed. Made him want to wrap that delicate body in his limbs, shelter him from any hurt the world could cause, and kiss him breathless.

            Finally pulling his gaze away from the photo, Bucky stared up wide eyed at Steve, noting the nervous pink flush in that face, that was still so much the same. He carefully set the photo on the coffee table, before moving to straddle Steve’s lap, placing his hands delicately on Steve’s face. Covering the sharp lines of that jaw with this palms, thumb brushing that full bottom lip which parted instinctively at the touch, his eyes drank in the face that was still so much the same.

            “You were absolutely incredible Steve. So beautiful,” he murmured, watched Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, even as his pupils expanded, gaze darkening in response to the verbal caress. “And now… you’re just as beautiful. Just a little less breakable. And I’m so fucking grateful for that.”

            Practically before the words were out of his mouth, Steve’s lips were claiming his own. Hunger, desperation, and desire on his tongue, the taste of it something they shared as Bucky arched into Steve’s body, need a living thing. Jerking at Steve’s shirt, Bucky didn’t even blink when his own clothes ended up shredded, the longing to be skin to skin so strong it was almost painful. He assured himself with each rough touch that they were both here. They’d made it to this moment, where nothing mattered more than being together.


	12. Chapter 12

“So, seriously though man, it’s really good to see you. I was surprised to hear from you.” Setting down the beer he’d been sipping, Bucky could feel the slightly embarrassed, vaguely guilty expression move over his face as he considered a response.

            “I know it’s been a while. I haven’t – I should have-”

            “Hey, I get it man, we all get through things how we have to get through them. I just wanted you to know you don’t have to get through them alone.” Seeing the lack of judgment on Sam’s face, the other man obviously sincere, Bucky felt his shoulders relax. He recalled just why he’d gotten along so well with the former paratrooper, before his unconscious decision to cut everyone out of his life. Not that Bucky had seen it that way at the time. He’d simply seen it as surviving – doing whatever it took to keep his head above water. And being near any part of his past, his time in the service, had only threatened to drag him back down where it was impossible to breath.

            He could see from the undemanding kindness in Sam’s expression, the other man understood. It dispelled any lingering tension Bucky had felt, meeting him at a bar not far from home, for the first time since Bucky had stepped onto a plane that carried him from the desert where he’d taken so many lives, and found his own stolen in return. Because the plane had only borne away his body – in his mind, part of him had never really left.

            Yet here Bucky sat. And he had Steve to thank for it. The man caused Bucky to open up about things he never though he’d be able to speak aloud, and all without ever asking. Steve was simply so incredibly supportive without question, and revealed his own vulnerabilities with a courage that took Bucky’s breath away. Bucky found himself revealing the dark parts of himself to Steve in turn, because anything less was unthinkable.

            The two of them had been tangled on the couch, a ridiculous late night infomercial flickering away on the television, neither of them motivated to unearth the remote and change it. Instead they’d been lazily snuggling, Steve tipping Bucky’s face up every so often to indulge in slow, deep kisses that had Bucky’s breath catching in his chest. Yet when he’d contemplating tackling Steve flat on the cushions, following through on the promise in those lips, Steve had pulled back, and taken his breath away in an entirely different way. “Have you considered getting in touch with Sam?”

            It was the last thing Bucky had been expected, particularly in this moment, yet given the deliberately careful expression of Steve’s face, he’d clearly given the idea considerable thought. “Uh, no, I haven’t.” Which was the truth. Bucky had told Steve all about the friends he’d made overseas, both the ones who’d made it back, and those who hadn’t, one night as they’d enjoyed some linguine that had Steve’s eyes fluttering close in bliss. Bucky fucking _loved_ that, adored giving the blond the things Steve never would have taken for himself. He wanted to give Steve everything, but settling on this, when words of love still hesitated behind his lips. Unsure of what was allowed in this relationship they were both feeling their way in. Uncertain of just how long a diversion Bucky would provide for this beautiful man who would live forever.

            “Okay,” Steve said, simple as that. Obviously completely willing to leave it at that. But Bucky sat back, brows drawing together in though.

            “You think I should?” Bucky questioned, curious, wondering what Steve’s motivation for bringing it up in the first place was. His mind was already considering the suggestions. Feeling the expected recoil at the idea, the same aversion to seeing anyone from his past he’d been experiencing for months. Yet, for the first time, as Bucky contemplated it, he also felt something more - a desire to push to past the aversion.

            “I just thought you might enjoy spending time with your old friends. I feel bad monopolizing all your time,” Steve said, before breaking their gaze, color rising unexpectedly in his cheeks.

            “And?” Bucky prompted, needing to know what was putting that fucking adorable shy expression on Steve’s face.

            “And I thought… maybe I could meet some of your friends. Sometime. If you wanted to.” And that was it. Bucky hadn’t decided to contact Sam _for_ Steve, knowing full well that would be the wrong reason. At Steve’s prompting, Bucky realized it was something he wanted as well. To see Sam again. And perhaps one day, even introduce Steve to him.

            For now though, it was just Sam and Bucky, and seeing that familiar, friendly grin on Sam’s handsome face, Bucky was grateful he’d taken the chance. “But how have you been doing? Keeping things on the straight and narrow as a civilian?”

            Sam laughed, the warm infectious sound drawing appreciative gazes from both men and women in the bar. “Oh man, you don’t even know. Rylie keeps telling me to loosen up, that I won’t be getting an inspection on how neatly I make the bed. But some habits are hard to break, you know?”

            Eyebrows lifting even as his own grin stretched across his face, Bucky raised a brow. “So, you and Rylie?” Don’t ask, don’t tell had been repealed before Bucky had entered the service, yet being out and proud had still carried risks. He’d never brought up his own leanings within his group of fellow soldiers, reasonably confident they would have his back regardless, but not wanting to take the gamble. Knowing full well the situation could get volatile, if even one of the soldiers he’d worked with reacted negatively.

            Sam had unexpectedly confided in him one night, the show of courage and support one he’d never forgotten. Sam hadn’t been dating his wingman Rylie at the time, but even then, Bucky had seen the look on Sam’s face when he spoke of him, and understood there was potential for more. Which clearly had been reached, and he couldn’t be happier.

            “Hell yes, bro. When our tours were nearing an end, we were discussing either re-upping or getting out, and he just looked at me and said, and I quote, ‘Fuck it. Let’s go get a house in the suburbs and raise some kids instead.’” Beaming, Sam laughed once more. “So, yeah, that was that.”

            “That’s fantastic Sam. I’m really happy to hear that. Rylie’s a great guy.”

            “Yeah.” His grin turning unapologetically sappy, Sam let out a happy sigh. “He’s incredible. And when I told him I was meeting up with you, he said he’d love to hang out sometime, if you were up for it.”

            “Definitely,” Bucky agreed. And the amazing thing was, he meant it. Anxiety gone, just being in the presence of his friend, he felt both amazed and proud to realize he could do this. Could still have friendships, and know that even if the past pulled at him, he could handle it. With Steve in his life, Bucky thought he could handle just about anything.

            “And you know, if there’s anyone you’d like to bring along, that would be cool too,” Sam added, about as subtle as a brick to the face. Chuckling, Bucky ran a hand through his hair, took a longer pull from his beer.

            “As a matter of fact-” Bucky grinned.

            “I knew it, man! Alright spill. Who’s the guy?”

            So Bucky had spilled it, the delight of talking about Steve to someone else making him grin just as foolishly as Sam had. When they parted a few hours later, with promises to hang out again soon, Bucky was still smiling, feeling deeply content as he waved Sam goodbye before grabbing his phone, sending Steve a text letting him know he was on his way over. Then he paused at the feel of lips ghosting over the back of his neck seconds later.

            “Impatient, were we?” Bucky grinned, turning his head enough to cock an eyebrow at Steve. Chuckling unrepentantly, Steve pressed another kiss over his pulse before taking his hand, strolling next to Bucky as he began to walk again.

            “I’d ask if you had a good time, but I can already see you did,” Steve spoke, and Bucky nodded, still smiling.

            “Yeah, I really did. It was great to catch up with him. Sam and I were saying next time we out to bring our best guys along,” he replied, swinging Steve’s hand playfully, loving the way Steve flushed once more, looked at him from under his lashes.

            “That would be great,” Steve said softly, returning the hand squeeze Bucky gave him.

            “So, what did you get up to? Go out for a drink?” Bucky smiled, grinning at his own wit, immature as it may be, until he say the glance Steve shot him. Flushing, a sideways look beneath lashes, this was entirely different from his expression of ten seconds ago. This one spoke of guilt, and Bucky felt a now familiar jolt of frustration.

            Bucky hadn’t seen the writing on the wall, until days after they’d agreed to start dating. Somehow, he’d been so dazzled at being with such a sexy and devastatingly fascinating man, who he’d become addicted to the instant he’d laid eyes upon him, he hadn’t dwelled on the fact Steve no longer bit him when fucking him on every surface of their apartments. Yet four days later, Steve had shown up, eyes already pure black, jaw clenched painfully, and Bucky had been shocked when the blond stepped back from the hand he’d reached out in concern. When Bucky demanded to understand what was going on, Steve had ran a hand roughly through his hair and admitted he hadn’t had any blood since the last time he’d taken it from Bucky.

            Bucky had been stunned, yelling at Steve in angry fear at the man denying what he needed to _survive_. Until Steve had cut him off at the knees by saying he didn’t want to betray what they had together by using his appeal to lure in strangers, to hold them close in the same arms that held Bucky. Staggered, Bucky had sat down heavily, the air rushing from him. Both shocked at his own naivety, never once considering that of _course_ Steve still had to get blood from somewhere, particularly if he wasn’t taking it from Bucky, and at the fact Steve was denying his own needs out of consideration for Bucky’s feelings. The knowledge undid him.

            Careful now not to touch the other man, Bucky had gestured for Steve to sit, heart aching at the say Steve carefully perched on the far edge of the sofa, pain evident in his taunt features. Bucky had no idea what the long term effects of lack of blood would be on Steve, but had no desire for either of them to find out.

            “Listen. You can’t go without what you need. Do I love the idea of what it takes for you to get it? Not really. But I don’t blame you Steve, and I _get_ it. If I had to give a cow the sexy side eye every time I wanted a burger, I hope you wouldn’t hold it against me.” Pleased when he startled a laugh out of the blond, those unnaturally dark eyes finally meeting is, Bucky held his gaze as he continued. “I want you to do what you have to do to be healthy, okay? Just… nothing more,” he finally added, biting down on his lip. Images of Steve holding him so effortlessly against a brick wall, grinding against him with wild lust as he fed from his neck playing like a taunt in his mind, the idea that Steve might go that far with anyone else a throbbing hurt inside him. He knew Steve understood when those eyes darkened further in a way that had nothing to do with hunger.

            “Only you,” Steve promised solemnly. “I just need their blood, everything else if for you.” So Bucky had nodded, and that had been that. Or so he’d thought, until now, months later, he’d noticed Steve was waiting longer and longer between ‘going out for a drink’ as Bucky had so cleverly dubbed it. He felt frustrated fear anew at the idea Steve was hurting himself in this way.

            Tugging the man to a halt, knowing full well he’d managed it only because Steve had let him – even weak from lack of blood, Steve was far stronger than Bucky could ever aspire to be – Bucky glowered up at the blond. “Steve. I thought we’ve been over this. I’m _fine_ with it-”

            Bucky blinked when Steve cut him off in a rush. “I’m _not_. I can’t stand it Bucky. Luring people to me, letting them touch me as I hold them, scenting the lust on them. Feeling that, when it’s not you…” A shudder wracking through that exquisitely muscled frame. “I don’t want it Bucky, no matter how much I need it.”

            Falling silent, Steve’s fervent declaration unexpected, Bucky considered carefully as he looked up into Steve’s face which was fixed into lines both defiant and miserable. He saw the obvious solution – the only solution to what had become a very real problem. Knowing that being with Bucky was putting Steve’s well-being at risk… it killed him. It was unacceptable, when Steve’s first life had been so fraught with illness and pain. Bucky would not be the cause of it in his second life. And so, he would have to be the one to fix this. Yet Steve being Steve, he wouldn’t give in the solution willingly. Meaning Bucky would have to convince him.

            Turning forwards once more, Bucky felt Steve fall in step beside him, those spectacular eyes now watching him with an expression that could only be termed as wary. Steve was clearly apprehensive over Bucky’s lack of reaction to his explosive declaration. “Where, uh, where are we going Bucky?”

            “I’m not ready to go home yet. You okay staying out with me for a bit?”

            “Always,” came the reply, so instant and heartfelt, Bucky felt his own heart clench painfully in response. Perhaps soon, he could tell Steve the depth of his feelings for him. Perhaps. But regardless, he would _show_ Steve. Make it clear nothing was more important to Bucky than him. And perhaps convincing Steve to let him demonstrating it wouldn’t be as difficult as he though.  

            His own mouth curling into a smile just this side of smug, he considered just how far he’d go for Steve. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the person you loved. But as Bucky felt his pulse spike, he knew when he would gain nothing but pleasure from what had to be done, this wasn’t one of those times. There was no sacrifice in giving Steve everything he needed, and taking what Bucky wanted in return. He raked speculative eyes over Steve before grinning wickedly, shoving open the door he’d led the blond to. Before Steve could question, or protest, he’d tugged him inside, into the darkness and the throbbing pulse of music. Mission Take Care of Steve was a go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me some Sam. He's a good bro. Aaaaand I love where this scene is headed ;) Stay tuned for Bucky's very sexy mission.... As always, thank you lovely readers for sticking with this story, and I would love to hear from you :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers. Gangsta by Kehlani is currently blowing my mind. And was my soundtrack as I wrote this chapter. I recommend you give it a listen to set the mood... ;) Enjoy!

The sound was overwhelming, a living pulse that for a fraction of time drowned out the sound of countless hearts beating – the rhythm Steve’s being unconsciously tuned into every waking moment. The bass slow, yet irresistible, Steve felt his breath catch when Bucky turned smoothly, gliding effortlessly into the crush of bodies, his hands tugging Steve with him. Yet it was his face, those eyes, those sinful lips that drew Steve irresistibly forward, more forcefully and irresistibly than any human hand could do. Gaze locked on Bucky’s, Steve felt the air in his lungs fall entirely still when Bucky lifted one of those hands, cupped the back of Steve’s neck, and tug, until his mouth met that wicked smile.

            Any questions of motive, any thoughts of resisting, were swept aside the second Bucky licked at his lower lip, before nipping sharping, sweeping deep into Steve’s mouth when his lips parted in helpless response. Fuck, one taste of Bucky, and nothing else existed. The world that pressed at him so heavily fell away entirely, his only awareness outside of their bodies arching demandingly into one another was of the sweat gleaming people writhing in a crush around them, moving as one to the beat that shuddered through Steve, mimicking the heartbeat he no longer possessed. _This_ , this was what it was to be with Bucky. Feeling like more than he was. Feeling _human_. He felt like a god when Bucky let out a little groan, hips grinding impatiently, and Steve knew no other creature in heaven or hell had ever been as blessed as he, having the fucking honor of pulling those sounds from the other man. At last, Bucky pulled back, his pupils blown as he drew in ragged breaths, staring up at Steve as though he found in him the answer to ever question he’d ever needed solved.

            Tracing his gaze over Bucky, watching the way the lights sliced through the dark, gliding over flawless skin, sculpted mouth, cleft chin, and a body that was as close to paradise as Steve ever aspired to come, he saw in Bucky the same thing he’d observed the first time he’d laid eyes upon him. The most gorgeous thing Steve had ever seen in his existence. He would have done anything for just a chance to get closer to the man. And now, Bucky had given himself to Steve entirely, and he knew he could live for a thousand years and accomplish a thousand good deeds, and still be unworthy of the gift.

            Struck anew at the realization, it left Steve shaken, stunned all over again that Bucky had seen him for what he truly was that first night, and wanted him regardless. _Still_ wanted him. Biting back a groan, at the way those blue gray eyes caressed him every bit as skillfully and intimately as the way Bucky’s fingers so exquisitely did in the uninterrupted asylum of their homes, Steve began to move. He grasped at any excuse to shift himself smoothly against that perfect body, eyes fluttering shut when Bucky let out a breathy moan, before he began to demonstrate the filthy hip rolls that Steve loved to witness when the other man was on top, fucking himself on Steve’s cock with all the beauty of a work of art.

            The drag of Bucky’s denim covered cock surging against his own left every higher cognitive process misfiring, the only clear thought being a greedy, possessive, yet adoring _Mine_. Every instinct within Steve, and not all of them of human, demanding he display his ownership of the man, ripping the clothes from that lithely muscled body and fuck him right there in the middle of the dance floor. Leaving no room for question who Bucky belonged to, so no one would dare touch him, even with appreciative glances, as he was peripherally aware was happening right now. He wanted to demonstrate who owned Steve as well, that his entire existence was devoted to the man who _was_ perfection, who he would do anything for.

            Fighting the compulsion that was basic, animalistic at best, Steve tempered him possessive need, settling for pulling Bucky into a kiss instead. A meeting of mouths that was all dominance, fierce demand, a command for submission, feeling that part of him that was supernatural, _other_ , shudder in satisfied pleasure when Bucky melted against him, the other man craving this side of Steve just as much as Steve needed to express it. Bucky continued to blow Steve away, with his bravery in giving himself over to someone who’s very nature was a threat to his existence.

            Bucky never held back, giving Steve every part of himself, and he had the courage to ask for what he needed in return. Both of them realized early on how Bucky craved to be dominated physically, just as much as Steve desired taking over the other man. For the first time, Steve had been thankful for his prenatural strength, that allowed him to pin the other man effortlessly to the wall, the stamina that let him fuck the brunet slowly until he was sobbing for release, the unending patience that let him unravel Bucky strand by strand until he was nothing more than a living mass of _want_. Anything Bucky could ever ask for, Steve would give him in an instant.

            So when Bucky gave his tongue one last delicious stroke with his own, before pulling back just enough for Steve to take in the incredible flush of arousal beneath his skin, the scent of his lust drowning out every trace of the rich smell of warm, sweet, enticing blood in the room, Steve welcomed it. He wanted to be surrounded in Bucky and Bucky alone. “I want it Steve,” Bucky spoke, his voice already wrecked, need drenching each word, and Steve felt his cock jump as though those syllables had wrapped around the steel of his erection, hot and stroking. Before Bucky tugged hectically on the soft strands of Steve’s hair, pulling his closer until Steve was kissing along the line of his neck.

            Even as Steve tasted the salt of Bucky’s skin, the flavor of him the only thing that could compete with blood in it’s addictive, delicious quality, Steve didn’t understand what the smaller man was asking for until he ran his fingers along Steve’s jaw, then grasped his chin, tugging until Steve was licking over the temptation that was his pulse. And _fuck_ , it was a temptation, the remembered sensation of Bucky pouring into his mouth, hot and mouthwatering and more addictive than heroin flooding Steve’s senses. It was an enticement that he had to fight body and soul to resist every time he claimed Bucky, his want for the man encompassing every aspect of the physical – hunger for his body and thirst for his blood.

            It was only Steve’s determination that he never use Bucky that held him back each time. Yet he was so gone in the moment, he was scrapping fangs that elongated on command over sweat dampened skin before he realized what he was doing. He went to jerk back, was stilled by Bucky’s hand tightening to a point that would have been painful on a human, holding Steve precisely where he was. Where Bucky wanted him. “Please, Steve. I _need_ it,” Bucky whispered hoarsely, and it was the painful timber of his voice, aching and honest, that made the decision for Steve. He could never hold back from giving Bucky what he needed.

            Licking over the pulse that beat so vulnerably beneath his open mouth, Bucky completely pliant in Steve’s arms, Steve nearly gave into the madness right then and there, gave into the lure of the blood he desired more than his next breath. When they were jolted by a faceless body lurching drunkenly into them, Steve possessively protecting Bucky from the contact by wrapping himself around the smaller man. Steve jerked back the animal within him enough to lift his head, look into Bucky’s face. He saw how far gone the man was already, Bucky’s lips parted as he panted out shaking breaths, eyes unfocused as he gazed up into Steve’s eyes. Clenching his jaw, Steve pressed a hard, quick kiss to that mouth. “Okay baby, I’ll take care of you.”

            Which is how an instant later, utilizing speed and the ability to blur the sight of himself, he had Bucky backed into the mercifully empty bathroom, and had hauled him into the only stall, locking it behind him before backing Bucky straight into the rough brick wall, lifting him up once more, familiarity and arousal washing over him in a wave. Steve remembered how things had stared, what seemed like a lifetime ago. More determined than ever to keep the man he held so effortlessly in his arms.

            “Please, Steve, _please_ ,” Bucky pleaded, the sound of him, desperate and whimpering nearly making Steve come, certain his name had never sounded as good as when Bucky was saying like it was both a prayer and an expletive. “Look at me.” At that, Steve paused, knowing his eyes were pure black, wondering for the millionth time what Bucky saw when he stared into them, knowing it was nothing human. Yet whatever Bucky found, it seemed to be what he wanted, and it was only moments later that Bucky was kissing him more feverishly than ever, tongue gliding along his in a dance that was a demand for _more._

            Wasting no more time, Steve locked Bucky’s legs around his waist, lining up their dicks, and began to thrust, delighting darkly in the way Bucky was instantly beyond words. His moans were a glorious symphony of sound that tripped down Steve’s spine, electric sparks jolting through him as he slowly nudged Bucky’s shirt aside, exposing the curve where neck met shoulder.

            “You sure?” Steve demanded, his own voice nearly unrecognizable, harsh and deep. Bucky responding the only way he could, as far gone as he was, tilting his head to the side, exposing his pulse with a selflessness and lack of self-preservation that had Steve’s cock leaking uncontrollably in his jeans.

            Unable to wait for any more of an invitation, the beast inside of him powerful enough to wrestle control from him, yet adoring enough of the man in his arms to be gentle, Steve licked over that strongly beating pulse one last time before fangs sank deep. He felt Bucky erupt, arching away from the wall as he came, shouts hoarse as ecstasy coursed through his body, each strong pull of Steve’s mouth upon his skin sending another wave of pleasure so intense it was practically pain through him.

            God, Bucky tasted of was fire and ice and power and _love_ , and it was the last that had Steve pulling away far sooner than he wanted, carefully sealing the wound with a swipe of his tongue, before he tangled a hand in the long, impossibly soft strands of Bucky’s hair and kissed him deeply. Cock flexing at the idea the Bucky would taste himself on Steve’s tongue, the concept was incredibly erotic, as appealing as it was forbidden. The idea that Bucky could want the taste of blood as much as he did…

            Before he could consider such illicit and _wrong_ thoughts any further, Bucky was pleading once more, as he continued to thrust weakly against Steve. “Fuck me, _Jesus,_ please, right now.” It was insanity. Dangerous. Reckless, when it was already a miracle they hadn’t been discovered, when the only thing muffling Bucky’s gorgeous cries was the volume of the music vibrating through the air. Yet this sin was the least of Steve’s downfall, so when he looked down as Bucky dug in his pocket, then pressed a small packet of lube, _fuck_ , into Steve’s hand, Steve was fucking gone, knowing Bucky had been carrying that around.

            “Fast baby, we’ve got to be fast,” he whispered frantically, pressing delirious kisses to Bucky’s face even as he helped him place his feet back on the floor, then spun his around the moment the brunet was steady enough. “Hands on the wall, come on, that’s it, fuck Bucky,” Steve swore harshly, quickly unzipping Bucky’s pants, shoving the tight denim and his boxers just far enough down his thighs, before he pressed a hand on Bucky’s back until the other man followed the unspoken command, and leaned forward, turning to stare over his shoulder at Steve. And damn, the look of him, eyes blurred and lips nearly trembling, only the barest ring of gray blue remaining around pupils blown out, it had Steve ripping open the lube packet, slicking up his fingers, and pressing them deep before Bucky could even register the movement.

            “Fuck!” Bucky cried out, yet already he was relaxing, body giving in completely to Steve plying it ruthlessly, adoringly. Pushing back on the fingers pressing deep, the sharp jolt of pain only making the pleasure all the better when Steve unerringly found his prostate, rubbed against it. Bucky sobbed when his dick, which had barely begun to soften from his prior orgasm hardened again so fast it hurt. Yet all he could do was chant “More,” hissing out a breath when Steve gave it to him, adding a third finger to the first two fucking into him in deliberate, deep glides.

            Using his free hand to undo his own jeans, Steve didn’t even bother to push them down as he freed his cock, the instant relief at the barest touch of his hand upon it making him grit his teeth at the agonizing pleasure. Pouring the rest of the lube onto his dick, slicking it up, he leaned over Bucky, blanketing the man in a move that satisfied every dominating urge inside of him. “Baby I know it’s fast but you ready?”

            Bucky’s litany of more’s because a chant of yes, Steve taking him at his word, sliding his fingers free only an instant before he was lining up his cock, began a ruthless press into Bucky’s body. Steve nearly came at the way Bucky flexed helplessly around him, the squeeze so tight, his cries staining the air. Determined to hold out until Bucky came once more, but conscious of the need to hurry, he wrapped a still slick hand around Bucky’s dick, and began to jack him off as he held Bucky’s hips with his other hand. Pinning him in place, fucking into him hard, fast, and so fucking deep.

            Unable to resist the urge, Steve gripped Bucky’s shoulders with his teeth, not hard enough to pierce skin, yet more than enough to hurt so good. He felt the other man nearly convulse as Bucky orgasmed at the sharp pain, pulsing into Steve’s hand, head falling back weakly. No sooner than Steve felt Bucky’s cock pulsing was he was thrusting through his own release, shouting as he came deep in Bucky’s body. The pleasure he’d experienced at drinking from Bucky, taking the man within himself was only matched by pouring himself into Bucky, feeling the man flexing just as possessively over his cock, pulling him deeper inside.

            Slowly lifting his hands to cover Bucky’s still braced against the wall, Steve felt the breath jerk out of him when Bucky immediately twined their fingers together, the reaction pure emotion. Bucky held him close as though he would never let Steve go. Pressing an unexpectedly gentle kiss to Bucky’s temple, the sated animal inside of him wanting it just as much as the man, Steve slowly pulled out of Bucky’s body. “God, baby, you’re so amazing. So good for me.” Steve pressed another kiss lingering on Bucky’s jaw when the brunet gasped at the feel of Steve’s cock dragging out of his deliciously abused body. Then were both jerked at the sound of the door to the bathroom opening.

            Nearly falling backwards when the hot, supportive, muscled mass of Steve was abruptly gone, Bucky blinked in confusion. Pulling his boxer-briefs and pants up, fastening them closed with fingers that wanted to tremble, he blew out a breath. Making a face at his come streaked across the wall, Bucky did his best to clean it off with a wad of toilet paper that he flushed down the toilet. Shrugged. Good e-fucking-nough.

            Bucky opened the stall door and saw Steve at the sink, not a hair out of place as he washed his hands. Moving next to him, Bucky turned on the faucet, the sound loud enough to drown out his muttered, “Well, that Matrix speed thing is handy,” so the man who stood at the urinal was none the wiser. He enjoyed the smile that tugged at Steve’s lips as he met Bucky’s gaze in the mirror. Enjoyed the way those unreal blue eyes flickered down, and latched onto the mark on his neck even more. Bucky congratulated himself with a mental pat on the back. Mission accomplished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for sexiness! Everything is great now, right?? Or is it... Stay tuned for the dramatic next chapter. As always, if you're enjoying this story, hearing from you just lights up my life :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song rec - Hurt Me by Lapsley

This was it. The tipping point. Gravity pulling them, unyieldingly from the razors edge they’d been balanced on, neither one of them voicing the obvious that was shouting into their forced quiet. How long could they maintain this balancing act when time was pulling Bucky unwillingly forward, while Steve was frozen in place, for all eternity. How could they maintain a relationship that they could not grow into, together?

            Bucky had never voiced it. Afraid of what Steve might want. More afraid of what he might not. But he knew, in his heart, he’d found his home. And it was with Steve, more than any country, or city, or house of brick and stone had ever been. It was in Steve that he found precisely where he wanted to be. Bucky wanted to spend a thousand forevers with the man, one lifetime not nearly enough. Not if there was a chance he could have eons instead, to learn every part of Steve, to memorize each curve of his face, and beautiful corner of his soul. Bucky wanted everything.  

            Now, as he stood facing Steve, both of them breathing rough, ragged breaths that were painful to hear, Bucky feared he’d once more, wanted too much. Expected too much. That he hadn’t understood this for what it was. A painful echo of that very first night. Of the second.

            Bucky hadn’t known tonight would shove them to this. Hadn’t understood the catalyst his actions had been. Even now he felt stunned that this is where they stood. When they’d left the club in silent agreement, Bucky had still felt gratified. Not simply from the physical bliss still surging through his veins, but from the knowledge that he’d been able to take _care_ of Steve. To give him everything. Perhaps Bucky hadn’t yet given Steve the words from his heart, fear holding him back, but it beat for Steve. Each stroke shoving that love through his veins. Each pulse of liquid life through his veins sustaining not only his own existence, but there to sustain Steve’s as well.

            Yet when they’d walked out into the cool of the night, Bucky had noticed Steve staring at that mark once more. And the darkness that grew in that supernatural gaze had nothing to do with hunger of any sort. Doubt had begun to creep into that beating heart.

            Doubt that had felt nothing but confirmed when they soundlessly entered Bucky’s apartment, and Bucky turned to face Steve, the silence and the dark surrounding them. Waiting, braced and cautious, to find out what dark thoughts were causing that dark gaze. He felt a dizzying spike of relief shoot through him when Steve reached out. Before ice shot through his veins in a freezing shock, when Steve grabbed the collar of Bucky’s shirt, and tugged it until the mark was covered. Hidden. Denied.

            “We shouldn’t have-” Steve broke off, brows pulling together when he sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

            This wasn’t good. Everything in Bucky knew, _whatever_ this was, it had to power to hurt more than any bite ever could. And he had no idea how to stop it – this painful destination they were careening towards. “Done what?” he questioned slowly, tone guarded. He needed to understand just how far of a fall he was bracing for. How shattered he’d be once he hit the bottom.

            At the question, temper snapped in Steve’s voice. As though it were obvious. Perhaps, to Steve, it was. But Bucky needed to hear it. Nearly as much as every instinct told him to avoid the unknown words at all cost. “I shouldn’t have bitten you. That isn’t – that’s not what you are to me.”

            Okay. Okay, Bucky could work with that. The repudiation was not one he’d expected at this point, when he’d been the one to insist, but not one that took him completely by surprise. Not when he’d come to understand the shield constructed of guilt and self-recrimination Steve hefted each day. As though by clinging to its suffocating weight Steve could keep himself separate from the world he no longer thought he belonged to. And, _Jesus_ , Bucky knew better. He knew no one deserved the best the world had to offer more than Steve.

            “What if that’s what I want to be?” Bucky replied, then cursed when the saw the immediate shock and hurt on Steve’s face. Ignoring the slight retreat Steve made, he reached out the cup the back of Steve’s neck, forced those brilliant eyes to meet his own. “What I mean is, why can’t I give you everything?”

            “Because. You already give me too much. Any more and I can’t – I can’t ask for that,” Steve replied, his voice harsh, but Bucky heard the fragile control in it, understood the pain barely leashed. He realized that maybe he’d been wrong to bite back the words that had lingered on his lips a hundred times already.

            Bucky hadn’t understood at first he would love Steve. Didn’t consider it was a place he could reach ever again, with _anyone_ , when his life had become a haze of a painful past stepping all over a blurred present, simply getting through day after day. But being with Steve … it was like living in a world of night, and then watching the sun rise. Impossible to comprehend, painful to witness, and yet the most dazzling thing he’d ever seen. Steve was the sun. The light his life now orbited around, the heat of his laugh, his smile, his _soul_ , the thing that showed Bucky why worth was worth living instead of just enduring.

            But. They had never once discussed it. What they could mean to one another. And how long this glorious slice of time they shared together could last. How long they _wanted_ it to last. Bucky had no idea how to tell Steve he’d come to realize the unexpected truth of it – this was a love he wanted forever. Now as he stared into tortured eyes, the pain reflected making Bucky realized he’d have to live much longer, and endure much more to understand the agony of isolation inside of them, he wondered if Steve had feared the same. That Bucky, the first person he’d opened himself up to, would one day leave. Through choice or death, and Steve would, once again, be entirely alone.

            Cupping that face of perfection in his own imperfect hands, Bucky shook his head. “You didn’t asked. You never ask for anything. But, God, I wish you would. Because I would give it to you. I love you Steve.”

            At that, Steve paled, jerking back violently as his eyes grew wide. “You can’t. That wasn’t – that wasn’t what this was supposed to be.”

            Empty hands falling heavily to his sides, Bucky felt the ice on his heart crack, jagged fractures threatening the breath he was taking. Yet he sucked it in, trembled it out. Refused to listen to the voice that insisted he run. Not when deep down, Bucky was still that stubborn asshole who would follow Steve forever, if there was a chance.

            “What was this supposed to be?” The distance this fall could be was now so far, Bucky couldn’t envision the end of it.

            Arms wrapping around himself, Steve refused to look at Bucky as he bit his lip, his face still shockingly pale. Looking, for the very first time, like the inhuman creature he was.

            “Temporary.” It was Bucky who flinched back at the word, shot out with no less pain and accuracy than the bullet he’d taken a year ago. It was a shock to discover that a bullet was preferable.

            “So, what? This was just a… a fucking _pastime_ for you?” Bucky demanded, his voice trembling. He prayed it shook with what sounded like fury, when he was trying desperately to mask the raw agony raking him viciously. “Until you grew bored? Or I grew too old, and you weren’t _interested_ anymore?”

            “Bucky, no, of course not. I want you as long as you’ll have me, I just never – I didn’t think-”

            “Didn’t think that I’d want more? Well, guess what Steve. I do. I want everything. I want you, every day, every night, forever. I want you to love me. I want you to turn me, so we can have that forever.”

            Steve couldn’t have looked more stunned if Bucky had pulled a gun, put it to his temple, and calmly pulled the trigger. Head shaking, eyes huge, pitch black and horrified.

            “You don’t – you don’t want this. You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he grated out, sounding as though he would be sick.

            “I know what I want, and it’s you Steve. What do you want?” Bucky demanded, unable to keep the plea from his voice. Unable to shove away the memory that rose, unbidden, of Steve evading this precise question before.

            “It doesn’t matter what I want,” Steve replied, replaying the moment with shattering accuracy.

            “Steve-” Bucky started, determined to force the truth out the man. Who despite the undisguised horror he wore now, had looked at Bucky with love. Bucky _knew_ he’d seen it in that gaze. He had felt it even if Steve had yet to say it. Bucky couldn’t be wrong about this, refused to accept the idea. Until he watched Steve close his eyes, features set in lines of agony. Before the blond inhaled slowly. Exhaled. And his face smoothed out, the expression gliding over it more foreign, and _empty_ , than Bucky had ever seen.

            “I can’t do this,” Steve said, his voice flat. Wrong. As though it belonged to someone else. A cruel individual pushing out vowels and consonants perfectly crafted to decimate Bucky completely. Before Bucky could take a breath, Steve was gone.

            Eyes blinking in shock until his vision blurred, Bucky didn’t understand. Didn’t understand why he could not see. Didn’t understand where those raw, pained noises were coming from. Until his chest began to heave, and he comprehended at last. He was crying. Lifting shaking hands to cover eyes that didn’t want to see, if they weren’t looking at Steve, Bucky felt the sobs wracking through him so hard, it threatened to break him apart. The fractures in his heart shattering entirely, leaving the useless organ nothing but jagged shards painfully carving his rib cage. Piercing his lungs.

            So this was the bottom of the fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that happened. *Ducking from righteous fury aimed my direction* All I ask is that you stick with this, lovely readers. Don't give up now!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song rec - The Howling by Within Temptation. Not necessarily plot relevant, but an amazing and inspiring song.

The air was freezing, wind biting, the sky a dark, inky black that seemed to swallow the light from the city below. And he was unaffected by all of it. Steve sat alone, eyes unseeing, his mind a chaos. The disarray of thoughts careening inside of him were matched only by his first frenzied days as the undead, adjusting to a life when he was no longer _alive_. So many things were different, his appearance the most obvious of the changes that had overtaken him. Yet it was the ones inside that left Steve reeling, the expansion of a mind that could now think a thousand separate thoughts a second one that left him hardly able to breath. The flood of questions, impressions, and all-consuming grief had been a hurricane inside of him.

            Now Steve felt just as staggered, as shattered, as utterly changed as he had that long ago day. As the memory of Bucky’s devastated face dominated every other thought, Steve felt just as destroyed as he had then, knowing that the life he’d lead was over And nothing would ever be the same again.

            Mind replaying with painfully perfect accuracy the words Bucky had spoken, Steve shuddered, discovering that the silent heart inside of him could still break. The agony was made all the worse by the fact he knew he was breaking his own heart. Because everything Bucky had said was everything Steve had never even dared to dream, everything he wanted. When he’d forgotten what it even was to want, until Bucky.

            Steve marveled darkly now at his supernatural body’s ability to feel so much, all at once with perfect clarity. All consuming guilt, at the pain he knew he had caused Buck, who had been so honest and courageous and incredible. Agony over how the beauty of Bucky’s words had savaged him. A joy so luminous he was choking on it, because despite Bucky speaking straight to his heart, he knew all the way to his bones it made no difference.

            Blowing out a shaking breath, Steve hunched forward, gripping the edge of the bench he sat upon in a grasp so punishing the wood began to splinter. Bucky loved him. Despite knowing the dark, potentially soulless creature Steve believed himself to be. Despite knowing the weak, breakable man he’d been before. Bucky loved him, and it had taken every ounce of will Steve possessed to keep from possessively holding the man in his arms at the declarations, hold him to his request, and fuck, just _keep_ him. Because Steve loved him in return. More than anything or anyone he’d ever known. More than life itself, no matter what form it took. And that’s why he’d refused to say the words he couldn’t take back.

            If he knew Bucky - and Christ, his heart fractured all over again at the thought because he _did_ , he knew Bucky - Steve knew exactly how the other man would react. If Bucky believe there was the slightest chance, he’d never let it go. Fighting for Steve, fighting for them, and everything they could be together. And Steve, for all his superhuman strength, was discovering that deep down he was still the weak man he used to be. Because eventually, he would give in to Bucky’s desires, when they were his own as well. Steve would selfishly steal Bucky’s life, hear that heart he loved beat for the last time, and watch Bucky begin a new existence that was half a life at best. Steve could never forgive himself for that. Bucky deserved so much more.

            “No stars out tonight. Too cloudy for it. But I like knowing, even when we can’t see them, they’re still there. Untouched. Eternal.”

            Jerking, Steve stared with wide eyes at Natasha who sat serenely beside him, eyes on the clouded sky overhead, before they turned to meet his. Immediately dropping his gaze, Steve stared at the ground once more. In their association, he’d become familiar with her ability to appear and dissolve with a speed and silence that startled even other vampires. While they all belonged to the night, she _was_ the night.

            Steve had wondered if it was something that came with age, or if it was simply Natasha, yet never asked. Undead or no, Steve still had manners, and he felt certain in any culture or species, asking a woman her age was simply bad etiquette. So he’d let the mystery of her be, and came to accept the way she would emerge at the most unexpected of times. Yet not now, when he felt so raw, so exposed, his grief naked for anyone to read.

            Feeling her eyes linger on him, Steve held his silence, hoping she would leave him be to mourn the dream of a life he had been offered by Bucky, like the most precious gifts, which would never be his. Hoping to be left alone. Eternally, devastatingly alone.

            Steve was disappointed, when instead of respecting his implied plea, she spoke again. Yet he felt surprised when her words weren’t a demand for an explanation of his obvious anguish, but a lightly spoken statement instead. “I never told you about how I meet Clint.”

            It wasn’t a question, yet Steve, curious despite himself, drew his brows together to glance at her once more. “No.” She hadn’t, and it was just one more thing Steve had never asked. At first, still grappling with how to function as a vampire, he simply hadn’t had room to think about anything outside of himself. His thirst. His rejection of it. By the time Steve had made a sorrowful sort of peace with what he was, it simply hadn’t occurred to him to question how the pair had met. But their love was undeniable, the way Clint looked at her … it was as though she was the sun. The same way Bucky had looked at him.

            Natasha smiled, and while it was beautiful when she was a breathing work of art, exquisite and untouchable, he stilled, seeing the pain behind it. The depth of it rivaling his own. “I didn’t know him when I was human. Met him the night I turned.” Something in her tone, faint and thoughtful, made Steve’s heart shudder, the ache for her this time. However this story would play out, despite what seemed like the happy ending she’d found with the man who was her partner in every sense of the word, it didn’t have a happy beginning. Of that he was suddenly, deadly certain.

            “I had been walking home alone when I was attacked. There were three of them, and they seemed the enjoy playing with their prey. Heightening the terror. Must have liked the way it made blood taste. I had no way of fighting back, but I tried. Not understanding what I was dealing with – just trying to stay alive. Unlike the civilized creatures vampires try to be these days, they were going to kill me.” At that, Natasha paused, and Steve was left to imagine just how badly she’d been injured in the struggle. How long they’d toyed with her before intending to extinguish her forever. He felt a rage inside of him at the thought of it.

            “They would have, had a group of people not walked by the alley, and they fled, not wanting to be caught. I don’t know how long I laid there. I should have died from my injuries but I had bitten one of the vampires on the hand when he tried to muffle my screams. It was enough. Then when Clint passed, noticed me lying there, he came to help me. By that point… I’d changed. Not enough to be healed, but enough that it was instinct to take what I needed.”

            Pausing, the silence heavy, she sighed. Her expression when she continued was one of familiar disbelief at Clint’s actions as though after all this time, she still marveled at it. Steve’s focus upon her absolute. “I bit him. And despite the fact he was strong enough to fight me off at that point, knock me out, finish the job or just get _away_ , he stayed. Took me home, helped me heal. He saved me.”

            A new respect surging through him for the quiet, sandy haired man, Steve considered everything she had said. He understood why she had thought it relevant enough to share her story. “You turned him.”

            Eyes thoughtful now as she held her gaze, Natasha nodded. “He asked me to. And, I loved him. Knew that my existence was better with him in it. And incredibly, he felt the same way about me. It was the only thing he’d ever asked for me – how could I not? And you know something Steve? I’ve never regretted it. But even more importantly, neither has he.”

            When Steve’s vision blurred, breath hitching, she nodded, some private question answered. Leaning back, she lifted her gaze once more. Certainly aware of the way he flinched at her next question, but granting him the courtesy of not watching.

            “You never asked me why I turned you, Steve.” No judgment in her tone. No guilt. And no apology.

            Feeling his stomach clench painfully, Steve fought back the urge to flee. To run, from this night, her words, and the pain they inflicted on his already ravaged heart. No, he had never asked. First, in terror at someone who’d been a thing of horror stories that had turned his own life into one of them. And later, after he’d grown to know her, and respect her, he hadn’t _wanted_ to know.

            Steve hadn’t wanted to hear the motivating for converting him into a creature he hated for years, yet didn’t have the courage to end. To terminate his second life, and simply let it all be over. No, he hadn’t wanted to hear it. Still didn’t. Yet just like that first night, when she’d gently held him down, and promised he would never fall ill again, she didn’t let him run.

            “I turned you Steve, because the world is a dark place. Full of dark people, both human and vampire. It needs the light. And you, Steve, you’re one of those people who are the light. I’d noticed you, watched you in my neighborhood. Saw how you helped everyone you could. Gave away the last piece of food, the last dollar you had to someone in need. And when I saw how close you were to dying – it was the one good thing _I_ could do. Keeping you alive. The world is a better place with you in it Steve.”

            He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt her slim arm come around his back, pulling him in until, unresisting, he collapsed into her. The cool, soft skin of her neck grew damp from the tears running unchecked from his eyes. Steve hadn’t realized he could cry, when he hadn’t once had since he was human. Now, it was as though the dam had been broken, an eternity of sorrow wracking his body, turning each breath into a painful shudder. The grief of the last decade demanding at last to be released in a violent torrent.

            Stroking her hand over his hair, nothing but comfort in her embrace, Natasha spoke softly. “Seeing you with Bucky, how happy you’ve been with him – he’s the light in your life. And if he feels the same way about you, don’t hold back Steve. Don’t force him to be without you because you think you know what he deserves. Respect him enough to value his choice. The world is a better place with _both_ of you in it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the mystery of who turned Steve, and why - revealed. Now we'll see if Natasha's story is one that will push him towards Bucky, and the possible future they could have, or away. I hope you're still enjoying this story, because I'm loving every moment of writing it, and feel close to the conclusion. *Hoping to maybe even finish it this weekend, but that could be wishful thinking* If you are enjoying it, I just love hearing from you lovely readers, so feel free of leave a comment :D As always, thank you for taking the time to read my story! Your support is awesome, and hitting 400 kudos had me popping open the wine and celebrating with tacos! You're the best, and don't you ever forget it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song rec - Bones by In This Moment

Courage, Steve discovered, came in countless forms. In his former life, it meant fighting off those who would take advantage of the weak, even knowing he was no stronger than those he sought to protect. Giving away his last dollar when he didn't know where the next would come from. Learning how to exist as a horrifying creature that belonged in monster movies. Yet all of the ways he'd shown courage in either of his lives, none compared to what he needed to do now required. He had to face Bucky.

            Jesus, he didn't know how to do this. How to face the man who had given his heart, his whole being to Steve, trusting him to take care of the gift for the priceless treasure it was. And Steve had cast him aside, as though it meant nothing at all. Fuck, it ached so badly, a physical pain in his being, to think of how he'd hurt Bucky. Hurt more to imagine now that Bucky may not listen to what he had to say. May never look at him with anything other than hatred again.

            But the truths Natasha had spoken were unavoidable, impossible to ignore. She'd pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, before leaving him to his thoughts once more, and they'd consumed him. About respecting Bucky's choice, his right to decide. Even now, Steve didn't know that he could do what she had done - turn the man who's life mattered to him above all others. He didn't think that he could silence a heart he adored with every cell in his being. Yet all the same, he'd hurt that heart, and he had to try and mend that wound. Even if Steve could never find it in himself to change Bucky, Bucky had to understand why. That it wasn't because Bucky wasn't valued. But rather that Steve loved him so much, he could hardly breath from it. Couldn't imagine stealing Bucky's chance for _more_.

            Standing now outside the door that had never once been locked against him, Steve ran a shaking hand through his hair. Gathering all the bravery he had, he knocked on the door. Waited. Stomach in knots, threatening to rebel despite being devoid of anything to reject.   A being of nearly endless strength, afraid of facing a human who could cause him no physical harm. But who could hurt Steve as no one ever had. Yet when there was no response, there was no relief. Instead, Steve’s apprehension for himself was eaten away by fear for Bucky when his knocks were met with silence. No Bucky reacting with righteous fury, ripping open the door to yell at him for the damage he'd caused. No demands through a locked barrier of wood and metal to go away. Nothing.

            Leaning into the door, Steve closed his eyes, focusing with narrowed precision through the sounds of the world that constantly threatened to overwhelm him, a thousand heart beats crashing into him, until he could pick out the one beat he would always be able to hear in an ocean of people. The one heart he'd been asked to silence. Ignoring the renewed pang at the thought, Steve calmed slightly, assured that Bucky hadn't left. Bucky hadn't found his way into danger, just one more time. Steve's fault, one more time. Until Steve realized that while he knew each melody of Bucky's heart, whether calm in sleep, or thundering with passion, right now it didn't sound _right_. The strong, steady pulse that Steve adored listening to, each one an assurance of Bucky's being breathtakingly alive, were now slow, uneven. Thready, as though in shock. And Steve's receding fear became deafening panic.

 

 

“Bucky, you're okay. You're here, in your home. You're okay. Come back to me Bucky.” Hearing that voice slice through the ice surrounding him, Bucky shuddered. He knew that voice. And he knew it had no place in this hell that was so frozen it burned like fire.

            “Breathe for me, Bucky. Deep breaths.” Everything within him jerking painfully, he clung to those words, that tone that wrapped around him. Even while mourning it's presence here in the inferno, knowing it had no place here, he clutched to it. Until he began to feel something beyond the pain that flayed his skin, bullets burying deep, sand scouring every exposed inch. He felt arms that he knew, wrapped protectively around him. Arms that brought him no pain.

            “That's it, you're safe here. Look at me Bucky, open those eyes.” He didn't see how he could, yet he would try to do anything that voice asked, simply so it wouldn't abandon him - leave him in the world of ghosts and agony that was already starting to slip away. No match for the heat and strength wrapped around him.

            The fight to lift heavy lashes was a struggle like few he'd faced before, yet when he managed it, Bucky blinked slowly in confusion. He stared up into blue eyes that drowned out the world. His brows drew together. “Steve?” he croaked, voice wrecked, immediately wincing, the pain in his throat throbbing as the pain on his skin began to fade away with the nightmare world that he never completely escaped.

            Sorrow swamped those beautiful eyes, and Bucky felt his breath catch when those arms were suddenly gone from around him, yet before he could slump back over, they were around him once more, their strength unassailable. Then a hand was tipping up a glass of water to his lips, the liquid pouring over his lips, into a mouth as dry as the desert his mind had dragged him back to. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut in relief, but he forced them open once more. Struggling to understand.

            “What-” he managed, before Steve let out a shaking breath, pressing his forehead to Bucky's as he rocked the brunet in his arms like he weighed nothing.

            “You're okay,” Steve breathed, and as Bucky's mind slowly cleared itself from the blind panic that had overtaken in, he wondered whether Steve was trying to reassure Bucky, or himself. Blinking, taking in the narrow slice of the world he could see around Steve wrapped protectively around him, Bucky realized he was on his balcony, the small patio little more than a fire escape that he broke fire regulations by crowding with plants. But why...

            Closing his eyes as the struggle to wade through the haze that was the last fragment of time, Bucky bore down. He grasped onto the last thing that he knew was real, before panic had taken reality and shifted it violently. He'd heard the car backfire - the sound a gunshot to his already scattered, wounded mind. It was a noise that normally only had his pulse racing inside his home. But out here, the noise had been deafening. Out here... he'd been out here because he wanted the air. Wanted a smoke, he realized dully, feeling the carton crushed beneath his hip. Wanted to escape. Because of Steve.

            Gasping as everything came flooding back, Bucky jolted, yet Steve, mistaking it for lingering anxiety from his flashback, and only gripped him tighter. “It's all okay, I promise. You'll be fine Bucky. I'll make this better, I swear.”

            For the first time, Bucky felt true fear in Steve's arms. “No!” he shouted, shoving away so violently that Steve released him in shock, Bucky scrambling backwards as far as he could in the small space. Not knowing how far was far enough.

            Steve stared at him, mouthing wordlessly as he saw the terror in Bucky's eyes. It wasn't the far away fright he'd discovered Bucky trapped in when Steve had burst into the apartment, instantly spotting Bucky huddled impossibly small, arms wrapped protectively over his head. No, Bucky's pulse had evened out, slowly calming as Steve gathered him closer, speaking soothing words of safety to him. The same way he'd done several times now, when Bucky unexpectedly suffered from a flashback. Yet the horror on Bucky's face now, was unquestionably for _Steve_ and Steve alone. Who flinched from it, realizing dully that he'd been right, so many months ago. Seeing Bucky fear him - it was the worst thing he could possibly imagine.

            “Don't, don't do it,” Bucky demanded, voice cracking, and Steve felt his heart crack with it. “Don't make me forget.”

            “Bucky. What-”

            “You said you wouldn't take my memories away. You promised,” Bucky mumbled, even as he looked away, hands clutching in his tangled hair when he realized no, no that was wrong. Steve had never actually promised he wouldn't erase himself from Bucky. Just one more silence Bucky had mistaken for agreement. Just one more thing he'd misunderstood. But Jesus, he couldn't take it.

            Steve erasing himself from Bucky, _fixing_ this by disappearing all together - his whole body shuddered, stomach heaving at the thought of it. Hours ago, Steve had hurt Bucky more than he'd ever been hurt before, and even now, just _seeing_ Steve, it devastated parts of him he had thought couldn't be destroyed any further. Yet, Bucky didn't want to _forget_ Steve. Didn't want to forget who Bucky had become, when with him. It was unthinkable.

            “Bucky no. Baby, no, I promise, I won't. I won't ever,” Steve pleaded, realizing now just how badly he'd damaged what they had when Bucky paled at his words, hunching into himself further. Steve wondered if there was any way to salvage it. And knew he could do nothing but try.

            “Bucky, I'm sorry. I never should have said what I said, and I never should have left. The only words out of my mouth should have been that I love you. I love you Bucky. More than anything. I love you.” At that, already reddened eyes grew damp, as they reluctantly lifted to meet Steve's. “I don't know how to move forward, I don't know how to fix what I did. But this is the only thing I do know. Bucky, you are _everything_ to me. And I am so sorry I made you feel for even a second that you weren't.”

            Bucky stared at Steve, shock, delight, and disbelieving pain warring within him. Feeling his eyes spill over once more, wondering just how much he could cry in one day before he was simply empty, he couldn't find it in him to even brush the tears away. Instead, he wrapped his arms further around himself, and realized the cold he felt wasn't just from inside, as the wind bit viciously at him. Bucky cleared his throat. “Maybe, we should talk about this inside.”

            Steve looked as though he was going to reach for Bucky, then thought better of it. Those immensely strong hands fell helplessly at his sides, before he nodded, and ducked back inside. Where he stood awkwardly, weight shifting, as though he was uncertain of his welcome. Unsure if he'd be thrown out at any moment. Yet here, risking it anyways. Pain still a raw, vicious thing inside of him, Bucky wished it didn't matter, didn't give him the slightest bit of hope. But it did.

            Gingerly sitting on the far end of his couch, feeling as though a hundred years had settled into his bones in the course of a night, Bucky finally nodded towards the other end, indicating Steve should sit. Bucky held himself carefully still when Steve cautiously lowered himself onto the cushions, as though Bucky was a wild animal he was trying his hardest not to scare away. His look was as wary and fearful as that first night, when Bucky had understood what he was. Abruptly, Bucky wanted to sob all over again. Was this what they'd devolved to?   After how far they'd come?

            Realizing at this point, it was his chance to say something, anything, and it looked like Steve would accept it, whatever form his words took, Bucky ran a shaking hand through his hair again. Wishing he had some defense, Bucky accepted when it came to this man, he had none. “You left.”

            Steve nodded. His own face went bleak, eyes turning inwards as he reflected on things Bucky couldn't begin to guess at. Before he focused on Bucky once more. “Yes. I'm sorry.” Words he'd say a thousand times, a million times, however many it took for Bucky to accept them.

            “Why?” If Steve loved Bucky - words that Bucky's heart were clinging to with all the strength it had, even as it feared believing them and being crushed once more - why would he have left.

            Sighing, Steve took his time to respond. Before deciding the only words that would suffice were the truth. “Because I love you. And the thought of anyone ending your life, me most of all, is one that I can't even wrap my mind around.”

            Bucky blinked at that. The explanation was the last he would have ever expected. “That's.... it?” he bit out, his tone baffled. Yet beneath the confusion was the beginnings of a simmering rage. “That's it?” he repeated, voice rising, seeing the way Steve's eyes widened in response, before they fell once more, in obvious contrition.

            Perhaps that once would have had Bucky easing back, cooling down.   But not today, when he'd had his heart broken more thoroughly than ever before, and then felt hope too painful to reach for. Now, he pulled his fury around him, a burning coat that blissfully seared through the last of the confusion, haze, and pain in his mind. Leaving nothing but clean, righteous anger.

            Shoving to his feet, wrath eradicating the shaking weakness from his limbs, Bucky flung his arms out. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me? You didn't want to end my life? God, you are unbelievable. What do you think you're doing, right now? Aren't you living your life with me? Maybe your heart doesn't beat, but you wake, you sleep, you breath, you _feel_ , what more is there Steve? And who are you to decide, on your own, what's right for me?” Steve's jaw clenched at the barrage of furious demands, though the emotion that tensed him to the breaking point was nothing so simple as anger. But at the last, he surged off the couch, stepping closer to Bucky as he snapped back, his voice a fury of passion.

            “Because I didn't get to decide for myself! And I don't want to steal anything from you Bucky! God, you're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I don't want to take anything away from you. The chance to find someone, grow old with them. Die, go to heaven. I believe in God, Bucky, but I have no idea what part something like me plays in his plans. No idea if I still even have a soul. And not knowing that... risking yours... I couldn't steal your chance at heaven Buck, no matter how much I want to keep you with me forever.”

            Chest heaving, even as he absorbed Steve's rebuttal, Bucky finally shook his head in disbelief. God, Steve _loved_ him, and Bucky believed that now if nothing else. Steve loved him, and was willing to let him go because he didn't want to damn him. Drawing in a deep breath, then another, Bucky closed the distance between them. He watched as Steve's expression became a torrent of frustrated pain and broken acceptance, that this was all they could be.

            Reaching out with hands that thankfully no longer shook, Bucky gently captured that face in his hands. “There is no version of heaven I would ever want to go to, if you weren't a part of it.” Seeing those supernatural blue eyes well up, spill over, Bucky delicately traced away the shimmering tear tracks.

            “I know what I want, and it's you, forever. I don't need to grow old with someone, when I can simply _grow_ with you. But Steve... you have to-” feeling his voice break, he shuddered out a breath. “You have to _fight_ for me. You can't walk away from me again. If forever isn't something you want with me, you need to decide now because I can't take you leaving again later.”

            Throat so tight, he didn't know how he could ever speak again, Steve stared into that exquisite face which only hinted at the perfection behind it. Natasha's words echoed inside of him even as he struggled to absorbs Bucky's. Steve hadn't chosen. But Bucky _had_. He chose Steve. As impossible, as improbable, and as unbelievable as it seemed. Bucky saw Steve's life for what it was, and chose it. Chose him.

            Meeting those gray blue eyes that hid nothing, Steve acknowledged the choice he had now. To trust that the love they shared for each other was all they needed. Or to reject what was in their hearts, and let Bucky go. Knowing someone, someday, could earn the right to hold Bucky instead. Would help him through his rough moments. Share his happiness.

            Steve saw in an instant there was no choice at all. Bucky was _his_. Would always be, so long as Steve drew air into his lungs. Because Steve would always be Bucky's. And what better way to take care of Bucky, _protect_ him, than to have him by Steve's side, always, the beast inside whispered. The beast was certain nothing could ever break the love they had for each other, when they were both unbreakable. For the first time, Steve gave in. The creature inside of him, and his heart which was still ruled by human emotion despite no longer beating, both sides of Steve in perfect agreement. Bucky was his.

            Eyes tracing those perfect features, wonder growing within him as he realized he would wake up, see that face for an eternity, Steve shook his head in awed amazement. “The only forever I want is with you. And I'm never letting you go.” Seeing the lingering hesitation clouding those incredible eyes, Steve buried his hands in the messy strands of Bucky's hair. He tugged until Bucky's head tipped back the slightest bit, adoring the few inches difference in their height that let Bucky look up at him ever so slightly. He felt the creature inside him stir when Bucky's mouth parted slightly, pupils expanding, Bucky's hands falling to grip onto Steve's shoulders.

            “I love you Bucky,” he whispered, letting their lips brush as he spoke the words that were written across his soul, if he still had one. Steve was beginning to believe he just might, if he had the unbelievable fortune to be blessed with Bucky in his life. He felt the shudder that ran through the smaller man, and his lips curved ever so slightly. “I love you so much,” Steve repeated, ghosting his lips over Bucky's mouth until he could feel it begin to tremble. Then he claimed that mouth, tongue sweeping deep, drinking in the gorgeous taste of Bucky. Holding the man tightly until there was nothing separating them, no space, no room for doubt.

            Freeing those sculpted lips only so he could hear the fucking amazing sounds of Bucky moaning, Steve traced the curve of Bucky's jaw, tugging his head back further so he could nibble down that neck, breathing in the ever intoxicating scent of his lover, of the man he _loved_ , and licked over that pulse that beckoned to him as it always did. He felt the way it spiked beneath his mouth, feeling the lust and tension spilling into the air as Bucky fell entirely still.

            “Not now. Not yet,” Steve rasped, answering the unasked question even as he sucked on the skin, deeply pleased by the bruise that bloomed spectacularly across Bucky's velvety soft skin. Delighted by the undeniable display of ownership. Steve stroked his tongue over it possessively, until he realized Bucky was tugging on his messy blond strands of hair, and looked up, knowing his eyes were pitch black. The darkness inside of him was unhidden on his face.

            “You're not going to - are you trying to... back out?” Bucky demanded, frustration staining his voice even as heat curled through him. The reaction was impossible to avoid when Steve was staring down at him with dominance so breathtakingly sexy, it was practically a hand stroking over his skin. Bucky watched those plush lips curl into a heartbreaking smile, devastatingly handsome yet slightly sad.

            “No, baby. If this is what you want, I promise I'll do it. I just want to give you a little time to make sure you're positive.” Annoyance spiking, Bucky was about the insist he _knew_ what he wanted, when Steve left him voiceless with his next words. “If you were to change your mind after it was done, to regret it, grow to resent me for doing it... I can't handle the idea. So I just want to make sure when it happens, we both know without a shadow of a doubt it's what you want.”

            Considering carefully, Bucky gave in. He hated the idea that Steve might be constantly plagued by the worry Bucky would come to feel anything other than love for him. He was willing to give Steve time, if that's what it took. So that when Bucky first opened his eyes in his new life, neither one of them would ever look back. But not too much time, he decided, and narrowed his eyes, brows drawing together. “Fine. Within _reason_.”

            Steve's smile losing the melancholy edge, he lifted his own brows. “Within reason huh? How about... a few months?” Bucky was already shaking his head.

            “Hell no. More like a few days.”

            “Days?” Steve repeated, rolling his eyes. “That's not exactly the deep, soul searching opportunity I'm trying to give you, Bucky.”

            “My soul is searched. I know what I want. The clock is ticking, punk,” Bucky insisted, when he noticed the smirk Steve tried to hide by ducking his head. Steve began to lick over Bucky's skin once more. Effectively scattering Bucky's thoughts, which he was sure, in the last working corner of his mind, was Steve's intention.

            “How about a month? That's a good compromise, don't you think baby?” And _fuck_ , Steve was using that voice. Pitched low, rough, stroking over his senses oh so good, Bucky had to cling to his point with all his might when everything inside of him demanded he give in. Submit. Give Steve anything and everything he wanted.

            “Two weeks. Take it or leave it,” he breathed, aiming for firm, yet when his voice came out it was nothing but pure need. Steve considered the offer as he nudged aside the neck of Bucky's shirt before nipping sharply at his shoulder.

            “Alright. Two weeks.” Deciding the shirt was really just in his way altogether, Steve bit his lip thoughtfully. Before tugging ever so slightly, and the garment ripped away from Bucky's body in a breathless display of effortless strength.

            “Fuck,” Bucky breathed when those hands, so rough and perfect began to skin over his chest, finger tips tracing delicately over the lines of his muscles with all the care of the artist Steve was. Certain he had one last point before he forgot everything but begging Steve to take him in any way he wanted. “You're not going to-” Bucky bit back a groan when those fingers pressed deep into the muscles of his back, practically melting him at the firm, delicious touch. “Try to talk me out of it are you?”

            Looking up, Steve met those eyes that held only the slightest hint of that beautiful blue gray. Pupils blow wide, making his gaze nearly as dark as Steve's. Steve grinned. “Oh no, baby. That's the last thing I want to do.” Not when he'd decided to give Bucky what he wanted. Not when it was everything Steve wanted as well. He'd never have asked it of Bucky, but when Bucky was asking him - he'd waste no more time on doubt, on fear. No, instead he would use his every waking moment to show Bucky why he was making the right choice. And now seemed like the perfect time to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man. Out of all the chapters in this fic, this one fought me the most. But I'm pleased with how it turned out! If you enjoyed it, I'd be so happy to hear from you lovely readers! Thank you for sticking with this story that is ( tragically? happily?) nearing its epic conclusion!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! As an antidote to the pure trauma of the last several chapters, I present you with this... Chapter 17. Enjoy ;)

“You know, somehow this isn't exactly how I pictured tonight going,” Bucky commented, as he sat obediently on the counter, feet swinging absently while he watched Steve move through the kitchen. The statement was not quite a complaint, but close.

            Feeling a surge of tenderness welling inside his chest, Steve did nothing to fight it. Instead, letting the emotion wash through him, as he set aside the spoon he'd been using to stir a pot of soup, he ran a hand over Bucky's kitten soft tangle of hair. Steve pressed a warm kiss to Bucky's forehead before turning back to the stove. He marveled at the deep peace he felt, compared to this time only yesterday.

            Nothing should be different, when they'd been together then, and were together now. Yet, somehow, everything was. He loved Bucky. It was a fact Steve had known for weeks now. But it was a fact he'd tried to deny, locked it away when he'd been certain acknowledging it would only hurt him worse in the end. So certain there would be an end. Now though... Now he was free to love Bucky as strongly, as all-consuming as he wanted. To take care of the man in the way ever part of him being demanded he do. Starting with dinner.

            “Given that you did _rip my shirt off_ ,” Bucky added, tone turning vaguely grumpy. Clearly he was less than invested in the grilled cheese Steve was using his limited cooking skills to toast. Steve had to concede Bucky had a point. And he'd be the first to admit, he'd intended to move things to a vastly different venue, of a more horizontal nature. Like the bed. Perhaps the couch. Maybe even the table. Yet when his eyes had fallen upon the bite mark he'd made earlier that same evening - a lifetime ago - he'd shifted back. He’d considered how Bucky had done everything in his power to give Steve what he needed. How could Steve do any less? And right now, that meant getting some food into his lover, who Steve had noticed was practically swaying on his feet.

            “Uh huh. When's the last time you actually ate anything?” Steve replied as he flipped the sandwich over in the pan. Grilled cheese wasn't so hard. Basically the same as pancakes. Flip them, don't make sure they burn - easy peasy. He totally had this. Despite the jokes Bucky had made when Steve had tugged him to the kitchen, wondering if Steve decided he wasn't worth the bother and intended to kill him off with his cooking. Steve wanted to take affront, but was too conscious of his cooking shortcomings to work up any true offense. Still, if taking care of Bucky in this moment translated into making sure the devastatingly handsome, yet currently unnaturally pale man was provided food that hopefully wouldn't kill the average human, he was damn well going to do it.

            Cocking an eyebrow when his question was met with a very distinct lack of response, Steve glanced over at Bucky, who was in full on sulk mode. Clearly the brunet decided silence was his best defense. Grinning, Steve rolled his eyes. God, he adored Bucky. Even when he was pouting. “That's what I thought. Food first.” After a few drinks with a friend, providing for Steve, enduring a panic attack, and forging through the emotional upheaval of the last several hours, Bucky needed to be taken care of. Equally as much as Steve needed to do it. And when he swept the man off his feet, it would only be after Bucky was steady on them once more.

            When Bucky frowned, opened his mouth to protest once more, his words died on his lips when Steve was suddenly grasping the back of his neck, gentle enough not to hurt, yet tight enough there was no escaping the grasp. Steve’s voice held that tone, commanding and just this side of rough, that had Bucky instinctively melting into the hold. “Don't worry baby. I'll give you what you want. But food first. Be good for me, and don't argue.” Breath going shallow even as lust burned beneath his skin, Bucky swallowed, managed a nod.

            God, Bucky needed this. In a way he'd never understood before Steve. After fighting for years to hold everything together, there was a liberation in submission he'd never comprehended before. The sensation of giving himself over to Steve, knowing Steve would take care of him - it lifted the weight that felt crushing at times. As though he could just let go. Just be.

            It was intoxicating, something he knew he would never get enough of - being dominated by Steve. Because he knew now, it was the same as being _loved_ by Steve, Bucky his sole focus.  Nothing else in the world mattering. Steve taking control wasn't about taking over Bucky. But rather taking care of him, in whatever way Bucky needed in the moment. And Jesus, he needed this. So he held his tongue. And if his breath was a little shallower when Steve turned back to the stove, and began to dish up the food, well, who could blame him.

            Sitting next to Bucky rather than across him as he ate, Steve touched him the whole time, as though reassuring himself Bucky was really here, was really real, and not going to disappear. Leaning into the touch, Bucky was practically vibrating when he dropped his spoon into his empty bowl, and turned into the hand that had skimmed over his naked back, cupped the nape of his neck with breathtaking intimacy, and now traced the clenching line of his jaw.

            Bucky melted a fraction more when Steve smiled gently, his own gaze dark and hungry, yet no sense of impatience in his face. “Good job baby.” Leaning over, mouth meeting Bucky's, Steve kissed him softly, patiently, pulling away when Bucky moaned and tried to deepen the kiss. Smile growing at the frustrated noise Bucky made. “Come on,” he said, tugging to the smaller man to his feet.

            Biting off his growl at frustration, needing Steve to take him over, and _now_ , Bucky gratefully let Steve pull him away from the table, breath nearly gasping out of him. Then Steve unexpectedly turned into the bathroom. “Steve-” he started, words cutting off when Steve laid a finger over his lips, grin turning frankly filthy at this point. Steve’s eyes were black as he drank in the exposed need on Bucky's face, his own breath catching slightly.

            “First I'm going to get you all cleaned up. Then I'm going to take you to bed. Now be good for me and take off the rest of your clothes.” Not bothering to hide the shudder that ran through him at that voice, rough and commanding, stroking over his skin like a physical caress, Bucky immediately began to undue the buttons of his jeans, shoving them carelessly down his legs. Boxer briefs were gone an instant later. Bucky watched the way Steve watched him with satisfaction, his expression pleased at being obeyed so well.

            “Fuck, you're so amazing Bucky. So gorgeous. Perfect,” Steve praised, eyes tracing the way Bucky's dick, already so hard it nearly hurt, jerked at the verbal caress. Licking over lush lips, Steve let out a little sigh before reaching in the shower to turn on the water, testing the temperature of the spray carefully before he quickly discarded his own clothes. He adored the way Bucky stood still, even though Steve could _see_ the desire to reach out, to touch, practically vibrating through the other man.

            Hands fisting at his sides, Bucky’s throat swallowed convulsively at the expanse of golden skin suddenly exposed to his gaze. Steve loved the way Bucky was so fucking responsive, so damn good, following the unspoken rules of this gorgeous thing between them. The trust Bucky put in Steve staggered him all over again, that after _everything_ Bucky could give himself over so willingly. It made the vampire all the more determined to give this beautiful human everything he could possibly want. And right now, that meant giving them both what they wanted, and putting his hands all over that body that called to him more strongly than even blood.

            “Come on baby,” Steve said, tone gentle as he pulled Bucky into the shower, angling the man until he stood in the spray, hot water gliding over the sexy planes of his body, tracing every inch that Steve wanted to taste. _Slowly, slowly,_ he reminded himself, determined to take his time. To take his lover apart so thoroughly he was sobbing for it, an antidote to the frantic, hurried fuck at the bar. Which had been incredible in his own right, but now... Now Steve had several hours left before dawn, and intended to draw out every minute of it. Pleasurably. Endlessly. Enthralled by the idea that no matter how torturous drawn out the sexual ecstasy would be, Bucky would let him do what he would. Because Bucky was his.

            Body tightening at the possessive though, Steve stepped into Bucky until they were pressed sweetly together, jaw clenching at the feel of their cocks rubbing up against one another. Bucky jolting at the contact, hips jerking forward helplessly, needing more, always more. But there was no rush in Steve's hands when he poured out some shampoo in his palm, then began to work it through the wet, long strands of Bucky's hair, the brunet’s head tipping back, eyes closing and lips parting in defenseless bliss at the feel of those fingers skillfully massaging.

            Savoring the contact, even though there was nothing overtly sexual about it, Steve felt his heart ache when Bucky's body practically melted against him. Clearly Bucky was enraptured by the sensation, and seeing it only heightened Steve's satisfaction. Carefully tilting Bucky's head back, he rinsed the lather from Bucky's hair, then gave in to his own need to lick hotly over the temptation of Bucky's pulse, so strong and steady, his throat offered so prettily it was impossible to resist. Steve was acutely aware of the way Bucky's hands flew up to clutch at his hips, fingers nearly bruising.

            Groaning, Steve stroked his tongue over that enticing heart beat one last time, teeth nipping teasingly before straightening again. Seeing the way Bucky's eyes had opened, water glistening on his thick lashes like diamonds, pupils blown so wide the enthralling blue gray of his eyes was practically non-existent, Steve eased away far enough to grab the soap. He began to torture them both by smoothing soapy hands over every inch of Bucky's body, slick fingers tracing the flexing muscles of his back, skimming over the sexy jut of his hips, gliding over the firm, biteable curve of his ass, lower until he could feel the heat of Bucky against his fingers.

            Bucky moaned brokenly, trying to press against the fingers teasing his rim, then nearly collapsed when Steve reached around with his free hand and grasped his cock, stroking over it so lightly it was a tease. Immediately, Steve turned him until Bucky could lean against the cool tile of the wall, then pressed against him once more, letting the bulk of his body support and surround Bucky. Steve trapped him erotically in a prison Bucky had no desire to escape.

            “Steve,” he panted out, hips jerking as he tried to thrust into Steve's hand wrapped loosely around the heat of his erection, while also trying to press against the finger that continued to lightly circle but never press deep. His lust stained the air, the scent so intoxicating Steve felt his control waver. Fuck, the perfume of Bucky's skin, his blood, his need, was so captivating Steve wanted to spend days wallowing in it, possessing the man until his scent was soaked into Steve's skin. So he'd never be rid of it. As a human he'd never realized how incredible, how enticing someone's scent could be. But in his second life, every sense heightened, he found the fragrance of Bucky every bit as alluring at the curves of his sculpted mouth, the thick length of his dick, the muscled span of his chest.

            Immersed in it as he was, the small room practically redolent with it, Steve felt urgency spiking in his own veins, and let the spray of the shower rinse the soap from their bodies, the slick trail of bubbles sliding over skin an added seduction. “Steve, please,” Bucky panted out, breath shaking, then let out a small, heartbreaking cry of loss when Steve slid his hands away.

            “I know, baby,” Steve soothed, yet his own control was fracturing as he snapped off the shower, grabbed a towel and quickly dried Bucky off, then himself, too far gone to tease the brunet with lingering, slow strokes. Seeing the edgy frustration on Bucky's face, Steve dropped the towel, and then picked the man straight up, moving with a speed that had him lowering Bucky on his back a fraction of a second later.

            Instantly, Steve was crawling over him, lips pressing kisses all over, each one a possessive claim, an unspoken declaration of ownership. _Mine_ , the animal inside of his growled with satisfaction, and Steve was in utter agreement. Fuck, he'd always known how desirable the other man was, his body a rapture that was the closest thing to heaven Steve had ever known. Yet now, knowing that he could, that he _would_ have this forever, it nearly undid him.

            Flicking his tongue out to taste skin, Steve hummed with dark enjoyment at the taste of Bucky in his mouth. He hoped it didn't alter when he changed Bucky, made him his forever. Vaguely becoming aware of the way Bucky was trying to arch up to his mouth, but was effortlessly pinned by the strength of Steve's hands upon his hips, he glanced up, then licked the length of Bucky's gorgeous cock, adoring the hoarse shout jerked from the man's lungs.

            “Look at me baby,” Steve rasped, knowing his own voice sounded practically wrecked at how fucking sexy Bucky was as he fell apart. Panting, each inhalation a sharp rise of his chest, Bucky stared blindly at the ceiling, lashes fluttering as the demand slowly sank it. “Bucky,” Steve spoke, squeezing a hip harder, not enough to bruise but enough to command attention, and he felt his own cock, aching and as of yet untouched, jerk at the way Bucky whimpered as he forced his gaze to Steve. Blurred, unfocused, and adoring. Steve knew the other man was in deep, felt a surge of primal satisfaction at the knowledge. Even so, he spoke to the man, needing to know Bucky was with him. Wanting this as much as Steve needed it. The longing to make Bucky feel good was so strong it was a compulsion.

            Prowling over that body splayed out and open to Steve's every touch, every whim, until he could stare into Bucky's eyes, Steve pressed his lips to that slack mouth, Bucky instantly opening for him, letting Steve sweep inside. Unable to resist thrusting against Bucky at the paradise that was their tongues stroking, he let out his own shudder. Before pulling back, panting roughly.

            “Fuck, the things I want to do to you. Baby, I want to make you come from my mouth alone. And then, when you can't take it anymore, I'm going to fuck you. So sweet and slow. So deep. Do you want that?” he questioned, even though he could read Bucky's submission in the further expansion of his pupils, hips rolling up against Steve more frantically with each word. He wanted to hear Bucky's agreement. Needing to hear him ask for it.

            “Yes, Steve, yes,” Bucky panted, eyes wanting to shut at the sensual greed tearing through him with the force of a hurricane at what Steve was offering, yet he forced them open. He knew no sight in life could compare to the exquisite vision that was Steve's supernatural perfection, so close, face drawn with lust, all for Bucky.

            Watched those midnight eyes turn impossibly darker at his response, Steve's voice sounding nearly inhuman when he growled, “Beg me for it.”

            Fuck, yes, yes anything Steve wanted, whatever he asked for, _commanded_ , Bucky wanted to do. “Please Steve, make me come, I want you so badly, fuck,” he managed, his voice broken with lust, and practically before he'd gotten the words out, he found himself flipped over, hands gripping the sheets when Steve was abruptly between his legs, those broad shoulders wedged between Bucky's helplessly flexing thighs. He felt hands glide over his ass, before slowly spreading him open, breath washing warm over his entrance, which clenched involuntarily in reaction. A breathless pause, Bucky feeling his own heart stop, skip a beat. Before it thundered through him, a crashing tempo when he felt the unexpected, and fucking amazing sensation of Steve licking straight over him.

            “Fuck!” Bucky shouted, his entire body jerking at the electrifying contact, yet Steve's hands held him still for a relentless assault, and for that he was so fucking grateful, wanting nothing but more. Sobbing as Steve stroked over him before sucking, he was oblivious to the tears that streaked from his eyes, the sensation of that soft tongue tracing around him before it began to press in the most incredible feeling of his life.

            Immediately, Bucky began to rub his dick against the sheets, desperately chasing the edge that already hovered so near at the obscene sounds of Steve fucking his tongue into him. He cried out at the unexpected sting of Steve's hand slapping against his ass, which immediately began a burn that was more pleasure than pain. And he remembered Steve's words, as he promised to make Bucky come from nothing more than the ecstasy of that wicked mouth.

            Yet as much as Bucky wanted to be good for Steve, prove he could do what the blond wanted, hold still for the nearly painful rapture, he didn't know that he could control the uncontrolled jerks of his hips. A plight the other man seemed to understand instantly, when he began to manhandle Bucky until he had him precisely where he wanted. “Good?” Steve demanded, voice so otherworldly Bucky felt the edges of his vision darken, nearly blacking out at the unbridled dominance in those harsh tones. Braced on his knees with his ass in the air and head lowered to rest on his folded forearms, Bucky could only manage a jerky nod. Words were beyond him as his cock leaked a steady stream of pre-come onto the sheets below.

            “Good,” Steve replied, before diving back in with no preamble. Fuck, Bucky tasted so incredible, Steve groaned as he nipped sharply, feeling the way Bucky fluttered under his tongue. The gasping, incoherent sounds the man was making only incited the flames flickering beneath his skin to burn all the hotter. Pressing his tongue deep, he hooked it as he slowly pulled back out, catching Bucky's rim, Bucky flexing irresistibly as he tried to pull Steve deeper. Undone, Steve could no more stem the flood of filth and praises that poured out of him than he could get up and walk away from the paradise that was Bucky's body, so responsive and all his.

            “God, Bucky, you taste so fucking amazing. Jesus, the way you feel, you're so perfect for me, so good.” Bucky's gasps became sobs once more, his whole body trembling as though it threatened to fly apart, the pressure of Steve's hands upon his skin all that kept him together. Moaning, Steve spread Bucky further apart, marveling at how prettily his hole was opening for him, slowly relaxing as his tongue licked deep. Tracing his mouth lower, Steve pressed his tongue hard against his perineum, and felt Bucky erupt, his cries nearly sending Steve over the edge, and he had to wrap his hand around his own cock in a punishing grasp to hold back his release. Groaning through the pain of being denied when so close to coming, Steve gritted his teeth until the worst of it has passed, then freed his hand to grasp the firm muscle of Bucky's ass once more, his hands now holding up the brunet who would otherwise be slumping to the mattress, breathless and weak.

            “That was so gorgeous baby, you're so good, coming for me,” Steve soothed, pressing kisses along Bucky's lower back as Bucky gasped for air. He felt the contentment seeping through the man's veins at the petting. Until Bucky jerked when Steve licked back inside him, body relaxed and slick from Steve's mouth.

            “Fuck!” Bucky shouted, trying to escape the slow, steady assault on his already overstimulated body, but Steve was ruthless, holding him in place as his tongue pushed deep. “Steve, please,” he begged, mindless and unsure what he was asking for, jolting at the hint of teeth. For more, endlessly more, or respite, he didn't know.

            “I know you can take more baby. Know you can come for me again. Will you be good for me?” Steve rasped, and fuck, Bucky felt the tears leaking out of his eyes before he began to nod again.

            “Yeah,” he panted, his body hardening again already, impossibly. Yet every part of him belonged to Steve. Ached to please him. And so _of course_ he could do it, whatever Steve wanted. Because Steve knew what Bucky needed, better than Bucky did in this instant when he was no longer a man so much as a creature of pure sensation and so much need he was shaking from it.

            Steve hummed in delight as Bucky continued to tremble beneath him, pushing back weakly against Steve's mouth, and he spent an eternity, licking, sucking and biting gently at the other man, so aroused that it was a constant, steady pain, but refusing to give in to the need to drive into the other man. Blanket him beneath Steve's larger frame, and _own_ him.

            “Not yet,” he whispered deliriously, the sounds of Bucky's shaky whimpers the most gorgeous sound he's ever heard. And there it was, the second release Steve craved with every cell, Bucky coming apart so beautifully it was a fucking masterpiece. This time, he gently lowered Bucky down to the bed so the brunet was lying, quivering and stunned. Then Steve pressed delicate kisses up the curve of his spine, brushing them across his shoulders, drinking in the little aftershocks that ran through Bucky's body, his orgasm a devastation that still rocked through him.

            With strong, sure hands, Steve rolled Bucky over, needing to see the man’s face. Needing to ensure Bucky was still with him. He felt a primal satisfaction course through him when he saw Bucky's expression, wrecked and more fucked out than Steve had ever witnessed before.   And they were nowhere close to done. Shuddering, Steve grasped Bucky's chin, thumb tracing over that gorgeous cleft before skimming over that mouth, bottom lip nearly raw from Bucky biting it. Leaning in, Steve stroked his tongue over it, was delighted when Bucky tipped his mouth open, kissing Steve back haltingly, his motions sluggish and slow. But even now, wrung out and limp from exhaustion, Bucky denied him nothing. Fuck, he was so perfect. And feeling his own uncontrolled thrusts of his hips, his cock dragging over Bucky's exquisitely defined abs, Steve knew his restraint had reached his end.

            Grabbing the lube from the nightstand, Steve quickly flicked open the bottle, and coated his fingers in slick, before he slid one long digit smoothly into Bucky, saw the brunets mouth fall open in a silent gasp, body jolting at the intrusion. Steve covered Bucky's mouth with his own once more, drinking in the small, almost pained sounding whimpers as he worked another one, then two fingers into the man who'd been so gorgeously stretched open by his tongue. Gratified when Bucky's eyes fluttered, and he began to rock back against Steve's hand, the air punching violently from his lungs when Steve curved his fingers, grazed his prostate.

            “Steve, Stevie,” he whimpered against Steve's lips, and Steve knew he'd never done anything good enough to earn the fucking wonder of hearing his name spoken so reverently. Yet would do anything to hear it again.

            “I got you baby,” he murmured, deepening the kiss as he slowly dragged his hand free, loving how even wrung out from his first two orgasms, Bucky still whined at the loss. Quickly slicking up his cock, wanting nothing but pleasure for his lover, Steve felt his own breath shudder out of him when he at _last_ nudged the broad tip of his dick against Bucky's ass. He felt the resulting flutter from the ring of muscle that gave way so easily, the glide inside of Bucky smooth, steady and seemingly endless. Both of them moaning in unison when Steve at last bottomed out, the thick length of his cock buried is Bucky's tightly flexing body, velvety soft walls gripping him so fucking good. Dropping his head to Bucky's shoulders, Steve panted as Bucky contracted around him, gave in to the wordless pleas, and began to move.

            Pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, he bit his lip painfully at the ecstasy he found inside Bucky, knowing inside the man was the truest home he'd ever known. Steve wished he could stay inside of him forever. Yet with his body aching painfully for release, he knew this couldn't last the eternity he wished for. He took comfort in knowing that his forever would instead be loving Bucky, over and over, each time as breathtaking as the first, for the infinity of time they would share together.

            Bucky stared up at the glorious sight that was Steve braced over him, lust staining a gorgeous shade of red beneath the perfect golden tan of his skin. Eyes black as night, and so full of love for Bucky the last of the hurt inside him faded away, feeling so adored as Steve slowly moved in him he was overwhelmed with it. “Baby, fuck, you're so good for me,” Steve whispered, watching as those awe-inspire eyes clouded over, Bucky's body yielding submissively, completely relaxed and trusting beneath his. Pressing his frame more heavily over Bucky's, wanting the man to have that connection on every inch of his skin, Steve grasped one of Bucky's hands in his, using the other to stroke gently over his face. “You still with me, Bucky?” Steve questioned softly.

            Bucky didn't answer him, only nuzzling into Steve's palm, staring up at his with such pure reverence and love, it was as though Steve was every star in his sky. Feeling his silent heart contract so hard it hurt, Steve nodded, never stopping the slow glide. “Okay baby. I've got you.” He understood that Bucky was in a head space where he couldn't answer. His trust was staggering, when he was believing Steve would take care of him, never hurt him. And fuck, Steve swore he never would again.

            Brushing his lips over the sharp line of Bucky's jaw, nuzzling at that throat, breathing deep the scent of the man he love, the spice of his blood both arousing and comforting, Steve groaned at the soft little exhalations Bucky made with each thrust. His dick amazingly hard once more, pressed between them, and _yes_ , Steve needed him to come one more time, feeling his own body tighten painfully as he grew close at the feel, the look, the scent, the fucking _everything_ about Bucky. Licking over that shockingly soft skin, feeling the way Bucky's cock twitched even as he let out the softest, breathiest barely there moan, Steve groaned in response. He dragged his teeth over muscle, and felt Bucky tighten around him. Steve let his fangs lengthen. Not needing the blood, nor intending to take any, but knowing the bite would send Bucky tumbling into ecstasy one more.

            Dragging them along the line of Bucky's shoulder, Steve whispered words of love, of praise, of worship over his skin. He felt the slight flex of Bucky's hand over his, and took the sign to sink his fangs deep, groaning as Bucky began to come, his whimpers quiet as his cock spurted between them. The flexing of Bucky over his dick was more than Steve could take, and with one, two, three more strokes he came, pouring into Bucky's body, shouting at the pure rhapsody and fire racing through him, at last. Thrusting weakly through his orgasm, he finally fell still, settling more heavily over Bucky, yet still bracing enough the other man wouldn't struggle to breath. Steve struggling enough for the both of them, chest heaving as lingering waves of pleasure washed through him.

            Every protective part inside demanded he get up, gently clean Bucky, then snuggle him in beneath blankets. Yet instinct told him holding the man until he came down from wherever he'd been was more important, so Steve stayed as he was, whispering a litany of praises and love, more thankful for Bucky than life itself. When at last Bucky began to stir, it was to weakly turn his head just enough to press a soundless kiss to Steve's jaw. Smiling, contentment a warm burn inside of him, Steve held Bucky all the closer. He knew now the other man had always been right. This was the only future Steve could ever want, with Bucky safe in his arms.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fanning self* Well. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. If you did, I adore hearing from you!


	18. Chapter 18

_Steve 6:23 PM_

_Boxes - Check. Packing tape - Check. Purchasing the aforementioned items with apparently far too much enthusiasm, as demonstrated by the annoyed look given to me by the hipster guy working at the packing supply store - Double Check._

            Laughing at the text, Bucky sent back an embarrassing number of smiley faces and sparkly little red hearts, because why the hell not. He might not be inciting disgruntled sales guys to new levels of disgruntlement, but he was every bit as excited as Steve, and saw no cause to hide it. Particularly when there was no one around currently to see the sappy grin on his face. God, he loved Steve. And Steve loved him.

            Enough, Bucky knew, he _shouldn't_ have felt nervousness over what to him seemed like a natural next step. After all, the men had basically promised each other an eternity of love and faithfulness. But still, natural as this step may be, it was still a freaking big one. Big enough to leave him feeling vaguely queasy, pale, and sweaty. Like a rather lovely bout of the flu. Which was exactly what Steve had worried he was suffering from as Bucky had been working up all his courage to get out what he needed to say.

            Steve had tried to shuffle Bucky off to bed, already fussing over fluids, fluffy blankets, and finding some medicine, the very idea of a sick Bucky sending him into a panic. Bucky, still just trying to summon his nerve, had been rather taken aback by Steve's intense reaction. Until he'd realized the last person Steve had loved, he'd lost to illness. Of _course_ he'd reacted the way he had, at even the slightest chance of that happening again. And Christ, Bucky had been so overcome with love for Steve in that moment, even as he was trying to fight off being turned into an unwilling Bucky blanket burrito, he'd just blurted it out, with no finesse whatsoever.

            “Do you want to move in together?”

            He'd had the momentary terror of seeing Steve's face go slack, hands at last stilling in their efforts to wrap Bucky up like a sushi roll. The tiny part of Bucky that still remembered how easily Steve had left him time and again, fearfully braced for one last heart break. One final abandonment. Until Steve spoke, his voice shaking nearly as bad as Bucky's hands. “You... you want to live with me?”

            “Well, yeah. I mean, I love you. And I'm pretty sure you want to keep me around for a while. So, I just though...” Trailing off, Bucky bit his lip. He nearly blurted out an awkward, horribly forced laugh and joking retraction that neither of them would have believed. Until Steve's frozen expression fractured, and the pure joy that beamed out of him was brighter than the sun. Steve’s arms pulled Bucky roughly to him in an embrace that was so tight it was nearly painful, and yet as always, not tight enough. Bucky clung back with all the strength he had, knowing wherever they ended up, now, tomorrow, or a hundred years from this moment, his home was in Steve's arms.

            After Steve had demonstrated his ardent enthusiasm for the idea in the most blissfully physical way possible - twice - Bucky had lain wrapped in those arms once more. Eyes closed as he sighed in contentment at the way Steve drew his fingers through Bucky's hair, possession and _love_ in every touch, they'd spoken in muted whispers about the future they both experienced equal measures of awe and disbelief over, that this kind of happiness could actually be theirs.

            They had agreed Steve's place was the better fit for them to live in, because while immortality may not come with an unlimited bank account, clearly Steve's art had him doing a bit better than Bucky's editing work, and his place reflected it. Steve, wonderful, sweet Steve, had been so thrilled that he insisted Bucky could change the place however he liked, get rid of or buy whatever he wanted. Steve was simply so thankful to share his life and his home with Bucky. And well, there had really been nothing for it but to pull Steve in a breath stealing kiss after that. At which point, conversation had, again, gone out the window.

            Tonight, Steve had woken up and excitedly gone on a moving supply safari, as he put it, the absolute dork, while Bucky started to sort his things into piles for packing. Neither of them spoke of it, but Bucky knew he wanted to be moved in by the end of their two weeks. The span of time was a limbo that was both rushing by, and stretching out painfully slow.

            True to his word, Steve had not once tried to talk Bucky out of it - instead assuring Bucky with his every word and action how fucking grateful he was that Bucky had chosen to be with him, forever. Even so, with serious words and solemn eyes, Steve had traced the curves of Bucky's face as they lay tangled together while the stars began to fade out of the sky. He’d asked if Bucky was certain he was willing to give up the life he'd known. His friends who he'd eventually have to say goodbye to, when they aged and Bucky did not. The chance to grow old, and find peace in death, in moving on to whatever was next. The chance to walk in the midday sun.

            Bucky hadn't dismissed those words this time. He knew with an ache in his heart, there were things he would mourn. Yet they could not compare to the wonder of waking up every night to Steve in his life. To never being alone again. Listening as Bucky promised him he'd chosen what he wanted most, Steve had nodded, no fight on his face. Instead, he'd clung to Bucky, with a mixture of grief and relief that tore at Bucky's heart, knowing that despite his resolution to change Bucky, some part of Steve still hurt at the idea. Because he believed he would undeniably be hurting _Bucky_ , no matter that Bucky wanted it. Bucky comforted himself with the knowledge that he would have forever to show Steve just how happy he was.

            If Steve ever showed up, that was. Wondering if the hipster had started an ironic protest and Steve was caught in the midst of a postmodernism march against, well, _something_ , Bucky was about to text and ask if he needed an extraction, then grinned and rolled his eyes at the knock on the door.

            “How many times do I have to tell you, you can just come _in_ ,” Bucky said as he went to open it, amused by his lover who could be an absolute animal, tearing his clothes off at the slightest provocation, and yet still be so damn polite and proper about some things. Swinging the door open, Bucky felt the smirk slide off his face. Shock poured icy and sharp over his skin. Fear punched through him like a fist to the face, instant, disorienting, and sickening. Bucky stumbled back at the horrible approximation of a smile that crawled over brutal features.

            “Don't mind if I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick with me lovely readers. We're nearly there.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. At what I consider the most important chapter of this story.

Smiling a thanks, Steve took the bag from the friendly girl behind the glass counter, managing to juggle it with the armload of moving supplies he'd purchased. He knew Bucky would laugh, and shake his head when Steve surprised him with his favorite cupcakes from the bakery several blocks from his apartment, insisting that Steve shouldn't have. It was a sentiment so foolish Steve didn't even bother to acknowledge it. Of course Steve should - and would. He wanted to give Bucky everything he possibly could. Particularly when, in a matter of days, Bucky's human craving for cupcakes would be something he'd never be able to indulge in the same way again. Only being able to take a taste of something that brought him such pleasure.

            While Steve accepted the slight ache the idea gave him, he wasted no time on regret. Not when Bucky was giving him the best gift of either of his lives. If Steve in return could do something as simple as shower Bucky in cupcakes by the dozens, until the man groaned while lying on the floor in a sugar coma, lamenting his own lack of self-control and cursing Steve for his enabling tactics, then he would fucking do it. Particularly when, from his perspective, he wasn't enabling. He was simply loving Bucky, in every way he could.

            Walking through the air that had begun its first shyly hesitant gentling from freezing to something softer, Steve could practically taste the hint of spring in the air. He delighted in the idea that for the first time in a decade, the passing of time meant something to him again. Because it was something he'd share with the love of his life. Grinning foolishly, unable to help himself, Steve was barely able to restrain his ground eating strides into a pace that could pass for human, his enthusiasm so overwhelming. The mind of his that could comprehend a thousand thoughts a second still struggling to believe that he could be so happy. That he just might possibly deserve it.

            Until every one of those thousand thoughts became one. The silent heart inside of him constricting so violently, it was a physical pain. One that didn't speak of a long still organ coming back to life. But rather of death. Sudden, agonizing, and final. Because Bucky's heartbeat, the one Steve could pick out of an ocean of people, that he would feel even if he was struck deaf and never heard again - that heart beat more precious to him than any other... It stuttered. Tripped. For three endless seconds _stopped_. Before thudding weakly, erratically, unstably once more.

            “Bucky,” Steve breathed, terror drenching each syllable, dread carved into each feature. Before he ran. Unmindful of the inhuman blur he created. Uncaring that he broke every implied rule of discretion his kind survived by. Moving with a sheer fury of fear that propelled him faster than he'd ever moved before. And it wasn't enough.

            “Bucky!” Steve screamed as he crashed into the apartment building, the door he'd run straight through now nothing more than splinters and dust. Abruptly he was drowning in the scent of Bucky's blood, harsh and metallic and _wrong_ , so strong in nearly drowned out the other smell beneath it. The smell that was the only thing in this moment that could spike Steve’s terror further when Bucky's pulse was a thready, halting thing. He was flying up the stairs, but not fast enough. _Faster, faster_ , a mindless litany in his brain, all logic and ability to think more than this one though completely removed. Steve was no longer a creature of reason, but one of terror, and a terrible love.

            Careening into the apartment so quickly he nearly stumbled straight over Bucky, Steve fell to his knees in an instant. Shock, horror, and rage vibrated through him so violently he felt he would shatter from it, all vying for supremacy as he clasped a hand over the gaping wound in Bucky's neck. Each halting beat of that faltering heart gushing more blood out, the scent of the life that had always drawn Steve so irresistibly to Bucky now a heinous insult, when sprayed scarlet wet and horrific on the floor, the walls, and most horribly of all the ceiling. The scent was one of death by virtue of its sheer volume, cloying and choking. Yet it was not enough to eclipse the scent of the one who had done this. And who was already gone.  

            “Bucky, Jesus, Bucky, you'll be okay, I promise, I'll fix this,” Steve swore. Ready to tear open his own veins, press them to Bucky's lips, and change him in a process that he understood in an instant wouldn't be ending Bucky's life, but saving it. Suddenly Steve heard the words slurring from barely moving lips, vowels so soft only his prenatural hearing could have picked it up over Steve's own harsh, panicked breathing. Hearing them, he discovered the utter devastation he'd experiences seconds ago was only the beginning. Nowhere close to the bottom of the fall.

            “Get away from me,” Bucky choked out, each nearly silent word pouring more blood from the wound. Draining away decades of his life in struggling beats and seconds.

            “Bucky,” Steve breathed, utter shock disorienting him as he looked down into that face he loved. And saw nothing but pain, and fear. Fear - at _Steve_. Realizing his own eyes were black, his fangs lengthened, ready to rip through his own flesh, Steve pressed more desperately over the fatal wound with hands that wanted to shake, but he would not let them, not when faltering now would cost Bucky his life. “I'll fix this, I swear, just let me-”

            “Don't turn me into a monster,” Bucky rasped, the fear and hatred in his voice clawing Steve's chest open like razors. He was trying to fight against Steve's touch with motions so weak Steve hadn't immediately recognized them for what they were. Steve closed his eyes, and brushed his fingers against Bucky's temple, searching for the answer to _this_ , to everything, registering how cold Bucky already felt. As if he were already gone. Steve felt a sob rip out of his eviscerated chest when he comprehended the final blow. The exquisitely cruel torture Rumlow had inflicted. He'd taken _everything_.

            He’d made Bucky forget Steve. Turning Steve into less than nothing. Simply a monster.

            The same as the monster who had ripped Bucky apart.

            Understanding so painful his vision threatened to go black, Steve fought against the useless heaves of his body. He wanted to vomit, the sensation of holding Bucky down, of forcibly confining him in the damning grasp of his arms with his inhuman strength as Bucky's struggles grew weaker against him turning this moment into one he'd lived a million times over, with every single human he'd ever taken from. Taken their blood, taken their memories. Taking Bucky's life. Sobbing, horror and uncertainly eating away at each fragment of time that pulled them both closer to an ending that soon could not be averted.

            Bucky didn't want to be a monster - didn't want to be changed. Every part of Steve that loved Bucky with a ferocity that was beyond human felt ravaged, at the knowledge that to do so regardless would to be ignoring Bucky's right to choose. Every apprehension and doubt he'd ever had about converting Bucky filling him now with an agony of indecision.

            But Bucky, _his_ Bucky, the one who'd seen Steve as not a monster, but something more... He'd wanted it. Wanted this change. As the warring instincts raged within him, Steve realized there were two imperative things he did not know. If a vampire's mind, a vampire's memory, could be altered. It was something Steve had never once had cause to wonder about or test. More, he was unsure if removing the damage Rumlow had inflicted so brutally, so efficiently, could even be done - on a mind living or undead. If the memories that lie beneath the horrible nothing Rumlow had buried it in could ever be recalled again. Or if Rumlow had buried what they'd had, buried Steve more effectively than eight feet of dirt ever could, forever. He didn't know, and the truths had the power to leave him utterly destroyed.

            All these thoughts careening through him in an instant, Bucky's words not yet fading from his lips, it was only a second later that Bucky's eyes rolled back, falling shut as everything in him began to fail. To die. And for the second time with this man, Steve understood there was no choice. Bucky's mind flickering out of reach, there was no time to try and undue what had been done while he was human. The only thing he could do was save Bucky's life. And if he managed it, but was unable to repair the memories of who they were together - if Bucky would never look at him with anything other than hatred and a desire for Steve's destruction as recompense for his own mortal death, Steve would give it to him willingly. Regardless, Bucky had to live. The world was a better place with him in it.

            Twenty seven seconds had passed since Steve first heard Bucky's heart pause. A lifetime. Yet nothing compared to the eternity that stretched as he sliced open his wrist, pressed it to Bucky's slack mouth, let whatever animated him, whatever graced or perhaps cursed him with life, do the same for Bucky. Pull his back from unavoidable death. Steve’s chest convulsed with sorrow, tears blinding his vision as he whispered to the man he loved. “Stay with me Bucky. Please. I can't go on without you,” he grated out, each fearful word a prayer and a plea, rasping out of his throat like shards of broken glass. Unable to consider if he was too late. If Bucky had lost too much blood, was too far gone...

            But _no_. That could not be. Bucky was strong. So much more than Steve had been when he'd been turned. Ripped apart, and pieced back together with limbs so strong, so heavy, he'd felt smothered within his new body for weeks on end. Struggling to haul air into lungs that worked effortlessly. Bucky would survive. He _would_.

            It was so faint Steve didn't feel it at first. Yet the second pull on his wrist was stronger. The third, more so. Bucky’s throat reflexively swallowed the liquid that poured into that mouth. Steve shuddering out breathes that were not yet anything close to relief. He heard that heart beat grow stronger. Steadier. Swifter. The slowing bleeding on Bucky’s throat renewed with each intense pulse. Even faster yet, abruptly Bucky jerked in Steve's hold, back bowing violently, eyes flying open to stare blindly overhead. Pupils swallowing his irises completely before contracting to pin pricks so small they were impossible to see. Faster, faster, the rhythm of Bucky’s heart was so quick it was practically one unending sound. Before, with a deathly finality, it gave one last, tremendous beat. And fell still.

            Bucky turned limp in his hold. No pulse in that heart. No breath in that chest. No life in that body. The man he'd loved was now as empty as Steve felt. Holding him, that heart he loved silenced forever, Steve died a thousand deaths. He knew he'd failed, in the only thing that had ever mattered. He hadn't been quick enough, strong enough, his blood effective enough. Once more a powerless being who could not save the only one who meant anything in a life that was otherwise nothing but _pain._ Bucky, the light in his life, was gone.

            The sound that ripped from his throat was inhuman. The raw grief, the utter devastation was beyond what a mortal could ever know. Dropping the wrist that was already, cruelly healing, away from that still mouth, hand falling away from the wound that no longer bled without a pulse, Steve wrapped Bucky's body in his arms. Swaying, agony unlike any he had ever known took him over, and he wildly wondered how he could most swiftly die. How he could follow where Bucky led. For the first time he was entirely ready to abandon this life. Willing to giving up this world that he wanted to be no part of if Bucky was not in it. Steve hated each breath that shuddered out of his chest, praying that the pain tearing through every cell could be enough to end him.

            Until he heard the sharp, jagged breath that was not his own.

            Vision blurred with tears, Steve blinked them away. Disbelief carved into his agonized features, as he saw that rib cage rise. Fall. Rise again. His wild gaze noted how the wound was no longer an open angry thing, but rather had the look of an injury weeks old. Those sculpted lips parted so slightly. Before those eyes, that he adored above all others, opened. And Steve gave a renewed sob, to see them. Open, and exactly the same. Beautifully unchanged by the conversion Steve knew even now was reshaping Bucky.

            Staring sightlessly at the ceiling, Bucky swallowed. His throat convulsed, breath growing more rapid, edging on panic. That gaze consumed by a thousand thoughts, a hurricane of confusion, uncertainty and a strangling fear. Steve felt his own agony compounding, at every fragment of pain he knew Bucky was experiencing. He knew this wasn’t how things should have happened - Bucky consumed with disorientation, rather than security and love. And Steve knew he only had this one chance, now, and perhaps never again, to try to and undo the damage that had been done.

            Memories were an endlessly complicated thing, winding themselves not just into a person’s mind, but to their very being. Experiences both good and bad became part of who they were, forever altered by them. And so, as simply as Steve had explained it to Bucky so long ago, it had been an incomplete explanation of something that was decidedly more complicated. Memories were so tangled and convoluted, it was not possible to _remove_ them. Meaning that every time Steve altered a human’s subconscious, he had not truly taken himself out of them. But rather, he’d covered them with another, manufactured perspective. The recollection of him one that would always exist, but remain hidden beneath the surface.

            Every touch, every word, every exchange of looks, all of them were still _there_ within Bucky. Held within him like the most precious of treasures, each recollection more valuable to Steve than anything else in the world. He remembered with a fresh flood of tears how Bucky had asked to keep them.

            Holding Bucky now before he gained enough awareness to jerk away, to flee the monster who'd changed him, Steve traced his fingertips through Bucky's hair. Eyes closed tight as he fought to reverse the damage done to the most beautiful mind he'd ever know. Steve struggled to repair the destruction Rumlow had so viciously wrought. He was unable to contemplate failure, let the possibility creep into the froze depth that was his heart.

            With an unexpected, and powerful flail, Bucky suddenly tore from his arms. Strong enough to accomplish what as a human he never could have done, and Steve... Steve no longer had the ability to hold the man in his arms when he didn't want it. His embrace was a prison he could longer inflect on the man who would only see him as a stranger. A monster.

            “Bucky,” Steve whispered, his voice cracking. He saw the way Bucky's eyes flickered around the room, unfocused and wide, even as the brunet clutched at the shiny pink skin of his throat, roughly feeling skin that now looked like a scar months old. Until Steve spoke. “Bucky, you know me,” Steve managed. Hope a concept he no longer could fathom, yet he still could not giving up.

            Steve saw those incomparably beautiful blue gray eyes instantly lock on him with a focus that was startling in its intensity. “Bucky,” Steve rasped once more. Slowly pushing to his feet, he tried to keep his motions slow, and nonthreatening. Before Bucky moved with a speed even Steve could not see, colliding into his body with all the force of a train, shoving him back until they smashed into the wall, brick shattering at the impact. There was no resistance in Steve. Instead, he let his head fall back, opening up the expanse of his neck. Offering his life up to Bucky. There was a certain terrible symmetry to it. The man who had made life worth living - now taking it away.

            Instead, Bucky tucked his face into that neck, arms wrapping so tightly around Steve the embrace _was_ pain. “Steve, Stevie, Steve,” Bucky whispered, voice wrecked, lips brushing over skin that had been braced for slicing pain. Steve nearly collapsed, only the immeasurable power of the man holding him keeping him on his feet. Arms tightening further, and it was the sweetest agony Steve had ever know.

            “Bucky,” he shuddered. Relief, disbelief, and joy sliced through him in an ecstasy of emotion. His hands clutched at the body that had changed, the heart inside it silenced, but still so much the same. The love in Bucky's voice, in his hands, was naked for Steve to feel. And with equal strength for the first time, the men clung to one another. Holding so tightly nothing could ever again tear them apart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my lovely readers. I'm sorry for any pain I've caused you. Know that whatever I've inflicted, I've suffered ten times worse myself. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking with this story.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! Thank you for your patience as we near the end here. So close! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I *hope* to have this story finished very very soon.

“You bought me cupcakes.” Bucky's voice was quiet, raw in a way that had Steve's chest clenching in pain once more. The two men had eventually slid to the floor, yet refused to relinquish the grip they held upon each other, so now, Steve lay on his back, Bucky half draped over him, head resting on the broad expanse of Steve's chest. An eternity had passed as they clung to one another, Steve simply assuring himself a thousand times, a million times, that Bucky was still his. Still here.

            Turning his head, Steve blinked at the container that held the desserts, dropped carelessly to the floor, next to the bent boxes and crumpled packing supplies, all showing signs of damage from his frantic dash straight through a door. He hadn't even realized he'd still been carrying everything when he'd careened into the apartment.

            Steve saw Bucky reach out a tentative hand to towards the box, pause, then drop it as a shuddering breath wracked through his body. Realizing with a deeper pain that Bucky's hand was covered in dried blood, Steve's own breath caught, and he wrapped his arms impossibly tighter around Bucky. Horror sliced through him all over again at what had nearly been lost. Agony over what Bucky had endured, the pain and confusion of his conversion. And a mindless, blind relief that Steve had managed to bring him back.

            Fisting his hands in the fabric of Steve's shirt, Bucky struggled to control his breathing. He hated the tremors that refused to stop trembling through the body that _felt_ different from the one he'd always known. Not worse, or scary even, despite the magnitude of the change he'd undergone. Just different. Feeling the comforting hand Steve smoothed down his spine, so warm, gentle and soothing, Bucky felt dampness pricking at his eyes. His stomach rebelled as he recalled once more how he'd tried to force this incredible, loving and _heroic_ man away from him. Called him a monster. He recalled those horrific minutes when he hadn't known who Steve was - hadn't remembered the most important person in his life.

            “I'm sorry. For what I said,” Bucky whispered, tortured and guilt ridden. Pressing his face pressed into Steve's chest, he wanted only to be closer even as he cringed at his own actions. He felt so unworthy. Bucky became aware of the way the blond fell entirely still beneath him, before that warm gentle hand cupped his face, forcing him to meet Steve's gaze. Tears finally fell when he saw the love in those incredible blue eyes, intense and undeniable.

            “Bucky, _no_ , there is nothing you should feel sorry for. _I'm_ sorry, that you went through this. Baby, I'm so sorry. If only I'd been here...” If only Steve had taken Rumlow's threat more seriously. If only he hadn't been so arrogant as to assume the danger was past, with Bucky's nocturnal wanderings at end. Jesus, he'd nearly lost the love of his life, and it was his own fault. “I should have-”

            Steve blinked in surprise when those blue gray eyes, gorgeous, and heartbreaking as they were flooded with tears, suddenly flashed with fire. “It wasn't _your_ fault. I don't blame you Steve. Tell me you know that.” Seeing the resistance in Steve's face, the man unable to let himself be absolved, Bucky muttered a curse. Sighed. He dropped his head back down, exhaustion beating at him while sorrow pulled him further down. Fuck, what a pair they made. Both choking on guilt the other knew they didn't deserve.

            Blinking back more tears when Steve carefully coaxed open one tightly clenched fist, before pressing it over the heart that may not beat, but existed solely for Bucky, the last of the tremors in him faded away. His body melted into the heat of Steve, each inch of his skin aching to touch, and be touched by the other man. Hungry for it in a way he'd never experienced before.

            “I'm going to take care of you,” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple, and Bucky heard the promise in it. The vow that would span an eternity. And in that moment, the turbulent gale of thoughts inside of him, violent and chaotic since the moment he'd opened up his eyes, stilled. Coalescing into just one, and it was nothing but pure gratefulness. He was thankful that Steve was here. Had saved him. Was his, now and forever.

            Sweeping Bucky into his arms, Steve got to his feet, carrying the man who was his heart and soul close. Gently setting him back down only once they were in the bathroom. He remembering that night, what seemed years ago, when he'd needed to take care of Bucky more than he needed to breath, and considered how they stood here once more. The same need pulsing through him. Yet there was nothing sexual in the moment as he carefully helped Bucky out of his ripped and blood stained clothing. Just a bone deep compulsion to care for his lover. And beneath even that, the desire to turn a night that had started out with horror and fear into something that might hopefully be remembered as something better. No matter how it had begun, it was the first night of the rest of their eternal lives together.

            Gently coaxing Bucky into the shower, Steve held him as he swayed in the hot pulse of the water, pressing his lips to any skin his mouth would reach. Whispering words of love and promises of care, Steve adored the way Bucky's breath would catch, the lingering tension in his face smoothing out as he gave himself over into Steve's keeping. Hands traced over each curve of muscle, each line of Bucky's body as Steve washed him, cleansing away all physical signs of violence. He noted with darkly possessive gladness that the mark upon Bucky's neck was gone. Violently gratified that the physical evidence of the blasphemous insult of Rumlow touching him, _hurting_ him, had disappeared. But he kept those thoughts to himself, kept his voice soft and reverent as he told Bucky in a litany of praises how good he was, how wonderful, and how glad Steve was to belong to him.

            Working his fingers through the dark mass of hair that was like wet silk, working the shampoo through it, Steve smiled when Bucky went completely limp against him, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure at the massage upon his scalp. Completely pliant when Steve rinsed his hair, and then just held him. Only the water growing progressively colder motivating Steve to move when he could have contently stayed there forever. Or until the sun rose... At which point, Bucky needed to be in bed just as much as Steve did.

            Carefully drying off the other man, Steve would have swept him up into his arms once more, intent on bundling Bucky into a soft nest of blankets, had Bucky not finally spoken. “Wait,” he said, staring at his now clean hand pressed to Steve's chest. Blue gray eyes drank in the sight of a hand that held none of the scars from a life that was not always kind, the flawless skin a foreign thing. “I need to know.”

            Understanding flickered through Steve, and he nodded. Reaching around Bucky to wipe away the fog from the mirror, he recalled how Bucky had wondered aloud in the past week, what the conversion would do to him. After all, Steve's transformation had been so dramatic, what might his own be like, Bucky had questioned. There had been no fear in him at the idea. Just a curiosity, at what he would become.

            Steve, knowing Bucky would take on the change in a body that was already strong and healthy, had been certain it would not be a drastic difference. But he had reassured Bucky, whatever happened, Steve would love him exactly as he turned out to be. Meeting eyes that now held the slightest hesitation, he nodded encouragingly, pressing one last kiss to Bucky's forehead. Who blew out a breath, visibly steeled himself, and turned.

            Staring at his reflection, Bucky blinked, felt the air leave his lungs in a whoosh. He couldn't say what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't this. _This_ being an almost imperceptible shift. Leaning closer, he saw that the scars that had spread across his skin were gone. As though each bullet wound, each childhood scrape, had never occurred. His height, he judged with eyes that saw with far more acuity than he'd ever experienced before, might be a fraction of an inch taller. Yet the rest of him was unexpectedly, exactly the same. His face. His eyes. His body. Everything.

            “Huh,” he said eloquently. Hearing the slight chuckle Steve let out, he lifted his eyes to meet that beautiful gaze in the mirror. Bucky felt his heart melt in an entirely undignified way at the pure adoration he saw there. “Guess I was already pretty perfect,” he joked, in an attempt to hide the surge of emotion inside of him. Then failed miserably when Steve's gaze only warmed further, love carved into every feature of his face.

            “You've always been perfect. And you always will be,” Steve replied. And fuck, there was no hiding the responding surge of love and happiness at the verbal caress. Turning, Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around Steve, wanting nothing more than the man who was in his arms. Before he remembered suddenly how he'd collided into Steve in wild love and relief, practically sending him through the wall. Damn. So much for getting back his security deposit. Yet curious to test exactly what this body that looked so much the same yet _felt_ different could do, he hefted ever so slightly. And lifted a startled Steve clean off his feet.

            “Well. This is pretty handy. Will make moving a hell of a lot easier,” Bucky mused, and saw the surprised amusement on Steve's face shift into hesitant hope.

            “You're still - you still want to move in with me?” Steve questioned, hands braced upon Bucky's shoulders to steady himself. His fingers tightened when Bucky abruptly dropped him back to the ground, the better to glare at him at a close range.

            “Of course I do. You didn't really think you were going to shake me that easily, did you?” Bucky demanded. Affront stained his voice, yet not enough to hide the hint of shaky vulnerability beneath it. Clearly wondering if _Steve_ had changed his mind, decided he didn't want this new Bucky after all. And fuck, that was the last thing Steve ever wanted Bucky to fear.

            “God, no. I just didn't want to assume, after everything, I didn't know if you needed time-” Steve bit out all in a rush, and was gratefully silenced by Bucky's mouth on his own.

            “The only thing I need is you. So this move is definitely happening. But, maybe we'll leave the packing for tomorrow. Not tonight.”

            “Not tonight,” Steve agreed. Unable to hold back his protective instincts a moment longer, he lifted Bucky in his arms. Carried him like the treasure he was to bed, where he tucked the unresisting man under a pile of blankets. An unnecessary gesture, when their vampire makeup was less susceptible to both heat and cold. Yet that meant nothing, when it came to taking care of his lover. No loving gesture was unnecessary, not when every cell within him demanded he do it. Bucky made no protest, instead letting himself be gently tucked in, watching Steve with eyes that sang his love, only making a noise of objection when Steve went to step away.

            “I'll be right back. I just need to clean up real quick, then I'll hold you all night. I promise,” Steve vowed solemnly. Staring up at him, Bucky bit back the arguments that it could wait, that he could do it himself. He read something more in those vivid blue depths. And he understood that Steve needed to try and make things right. Regain control. Try and combat the violent chaos that had torn them apart them, however briefly it had lasted. Nodding, Bucky sank deeper under the covers, eyes closing as he heard with astounding acuteness the sounds of Steve putting the living room to rights. He was confident the next time he stepped into it, the blood, _his_ blood, would no longer paint the room in a macabre spray. And Bucky felt so loved, so cherished, he knew it would take years to ever get used to the sensation.

            True to his word, Steve returned before Bucky could begin to miss him, their sighs of contentment echoes of one another as their limbs entwined. Drawing fingers through the still slightly damp gold strands of Steve's hair, Bucky at last asked the question that needed to be voiced. “Why does he hate you, Steve?” Because the savagery of the attack, the pure loathing behind it - Bucky understood _he_ hadn't been the cause of it, or the reason for it.

            Causing Bucky physical pain had been an irrelevant repercussion, rather than the point. Instead, Bucky had been the tool, the weapon used to hurt Steve. The fact Rumlow had gone so far as to try to destroy the love he'd held for Steve by making him forget it, letting Bucky's lack of memory savage Steve as nothing else could - and oh, his silent heart would hurt for the rest of time at how well he'd done that, the agony of Steve's face unforgettable - it was incredibly vicious, and intensely personal.

            Steve's body turned to steel, and Bucky could literally feel him will himself to relax, second by painful second. Yet as much as he wanted to take his words back, avoid any topic that hurt Steve, Bucky held his silence. Instead he continued his soft stroking through Steve's hair, knowing this had to be dealt with. Bucky needed to know exactly what sort of monster he would be facing. And face it, he would. Because while attacking Bucky was reason enough, Bucky could have let that go. Given enough time, moved past the attack that had not managed to kill him. But for the hurt it had caused Steve - the crime was unforgivable. _No one_ hurt Steve, and got away with that. Bucky was ready to demonstrate that to the world, violently and undeniably.

            It took long moments, but at last Steve spoke, his voice low and raw as he spoke of the man he'd already disliked, but now despised more than he he'd ever hated another being. “He's cruel. Brutal. In a way that has nothing to do with being a vampire, and everything to do with what he is inside. I met him soon after turning. When I was still struggling with what it took to survive. He offered to... help me. Show me how things could be, if I stopped feeling uselessly guilty.”

            When Steve trailed off, Bucky shifted, wiggling until he and Steve lay facing one another, breath gently mingling, and cupped the nape of Steve's neck in a hold that was pure love and support. “He was horrible Bucky. He purposely heightened the fear of his victims, terrorizing them before feeding on them. Said it made them taste better. But he enjoyed it Bucky. Liked the feeling of power he got from it, and he thought there wasn't a thing wrong with it, because in the end they wouldn't remember. It disgusted me. Just proved to me, at the time at least, that vampires really were monsters. That I was one.” Meeting Bucky's gaze when he made a little pained noise, Steve's pressed a warm kiss to his lips in apology, knowing the man felt guilty yet for what he'd said. Knowing there was no reason for it.

            “I know better now of course. But Rumlow, he really is,” Steve practically spat, the name like poison on his tongue. “I told him to stop what he was doing, that it wasn't right. He didn't listen, and at the time I didn't have the power or confidence to enforce that. But a few years later, I caught him nearly killing someone in my territory, and I lost it. Almost killed him, would have if some of his friends hadn't shown up, pulled me off of him, and got him out of there. Ever since, he's kept his distance. But clearly, he never forgot what happened,” Steve trailed off. Shame gripped at his throat that he hadn't realized the threat Rumlow posed to Bucky.

            Yet Bucky's own eyes were narrowing in though, focused intently on Steve's words as he considered. “How can it be done, Steve? How do you kill a vampire?”

            Looking up sharply once more, Steve saw no pain on Bucky's face. No regret. Just a forceful determination. A steely resolve. And Steve saw in that instant, that the kind, wonderful, loving man he adored was a warrior. He felt pride and satisfaction surging within him. Pulling Bucky closer yet, he kissed so sweetly those lips that Steve felt certain now God had created just for him. And then, tangled together in the dark, they spoke words of revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! If you're still enjoying this wild, crazy, occasionally spicy, and often heartbreaking journey, I'd love to hear from you :D


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bah! So close to the end! I'm so conflicted, and full of emotions, at the idea of finishing this story that has such a huge part of my heart. *crying into my nachos at the thought* Regardless, I give you the second to last chapter! Enjoy :D

Groaning at the feel of those lips, more blissful than any heaven he could ever imagine, and more wicked than any sin invented, moving upon his skin, Steve let his head fall back. He shuddered when Bucky licked at the juncture of neck and shoulder, one last dragging caress, before his hand was fisting in Steve's hair. Tugging his head down enough until their mouths met, a frantic, passionate thing, Steve tasted himself on Bucky's tongue.

            “Fuck,” he muttered, tremors still running through his body, feeling the way Bucky's lips curved against him in a smile that was nothing but smug and satisfied. Steve was unable to protest, when Bucky had every right to be. Jesus, the things Bucky did to him... He could have a hundred life times with the man, and never grow use to the wonder, the joy, the fucking ecstasy of being with Bucky. Steve felt happiness jolting through him at the reminder that they'd have it - as long as they could want. They'd have each other.

            Lifting lashes heavy with lust, Steve stared down into Bucky's face, adoring the sly expression on that face, seeing the pink flush warming that flawless skin. The happiness he felt to see the health in Bucky's face was a bone deep thing. Part of Steve was still in awe at the perfect, immortal lover that was all his. And at the way Bucky had taken to his second life - in a way Steve never could have predicted.

            He'd feared how Bucky would handle it - the reality of living as a creature dependent on blood to exist. Steve hoped that because Bucky had _chosen_ it, knowing full well what that choice meant, the transition would be easier. But he’d worried all the same, that once faced with the hard truth of what he was, Bucky would at best regret it, or at worst resent Steve for the change he'd forced on him in that moment when no option had felt right.

            So it had been with quiet trepidation that when they both woke, the night following the conversion, Steve had gently kissed Bucky, then told him it was time. Steve was not willing to risk any further delay in giving Bucky what he needed, particularly after healing a wound so severe. Those breathtaking blue gray eyes had darkened in an instant, Steve watching in fascination as black swallowed all the color in them - yet somehow not the light. He understood for the first time why Bucky had never turned away from him, when Steve's own eyes had done the same. Because in the black, he saw a thousand midnight skies, beautiful and unending.

            Bucky had nodded, the breath he blew out shaky. But there was nothing but trust in his face as he took Steve's hand, and they stepped out into the night. Luring someone in had been laughably easy, the perfection of Bucky's face irresistible. And the seductive look Steve had had to work to perfect, was clearly one Bucky needed no instruction on. Which honestly, was no surprise. One look at Bucky, and Steve had been drawn in like the easiest of prey.

            Yet when Bucky had led the woman, oh so willing and warm, into a shadowy corner between buildings, he'd no more than laid those gorgeous lips upon skin before he jerked back. Murmuring out a stuttered apology, he’d swiftly striding away, the confusion on the beautiful woman's face matched only by Steve's, who'd been lingering nearby. Just in case. Steve’s body was tense and aching as he watched Bucky smile that smile at another, hating himself for the heat that ran beneath his skin at seeing it. It wasn't jealousy, not when he would never begrudge Bucky what he needed to live. More, Bucky's loyalty, his _love_ was never in question. So no, Steve would never be so foolish, so small, as to be jealous.

            Instead it was that dominating possessiveness inside of him, the animalistic part of him that clawed viciously at Steve in demand. To show Bucky and the _world_ that no one else had the right to touch his lover, that no one had the right to give him what he needed. Not when Steve would give him _anything_ , his very life if Bucky demanded it. And it was that beast that snapped to dangerous attention when Bucky moved straight to him, folding Bucky close when Bucky walked straight into his arms, ready to neutralize any threat to the man who was his heart. Man and beast were in agreement that no one could ever be permitted to hurt Bucky ever again. But right now, sensing no danger in the air, Steve simply felt confusion when Bucky clung to him with a grip that was nearly desperate.

            “What's wrong, baby?” he questioned softly, lips brushing the soft hair Bucky had pulled back into a messy bun, breathing in the scent of his lover that had wonderfully, delightfully stayed precisely the same. Still mouthwatering, sexy, and comforting, all at once. Pressing his face into Steve's neck, Bucky gave his head a little shake, taking his time to respond.

            “I just... I didn't want to. Couldn't make myself do it. I'm sorry,” he whispered, and Steve heard the edge of shame in the confession. As though he'd let Steve down. Immediately Steve tightened his own hold, running a reassuring hand down the gorgeous length of Bucky's back.

            “It's okay Bucky. Nothing to be sorry about,” Steve immediately replied, meaning it. Not when Bucky had taken the complete upending of his life with a grace and calm acceptance no one could ever have expected.

            “Maybe, if you did it first...” Bucky trailed off hesitantly. Steve instantly nodding.

            “Of course baby. Whatever you want.” Whatever he needed, Steve would give him. Now and forever. The desire was such an overwhelming compulsion, he had even, incredibly, forgotten his own reluctance to bite another. Steve had taken blood with his normal care for the human he'd chosen, yet without any of the associated guilt that had plagued him from the very first time, and recently more so than ever, when it felt like infidelity to the man he loved. But now - when Bucky needed him to do it, there could be no guilt, no hesitation. Just an overwhelming desire to help Bucky however he could.

            Steve had wiped the memories of the woman before carefully making sure she made it back inside, to the friends who waited there, before he turned to see Bucky, watching with naked need etched on his face, eyes black and wide. Yet he wasn't staring at the retreating human, but rather Steve.

            In a breathless instant, Bucky had grabbed Steve's arm, tugged him further into the shadows until they stood in the dark between buildings, whether no one could see them, and no light could touch them. Then Bucky jerked Steve into a kiss so heated, it was as though myths had come to life, and Bucky, his personal sun, had shined upon him and set him on fire. Groaning in stunned delight, Steve buried fingers in that soft tumble of hair, freeing it from the hair band, jolting when Bucky nipped at his plush lower lip, feeling the sharp skim of fangs over his skin.

            Dragging his lips along the angle of Steve's jaw, before sucking harshly on the skin of Steve's neck, Bucky's voice was as raw and ragged as the breath jerking from his chest. “Steve, please, can I-”

            “Anything,” Steve promised deliriously, uncomprehending of what Bucky wanted. But knowing that he would give it, if only so the divine feel of Bucky grinding against him, pressing him back into the rough brick wall and those strong, perfectly rough hands touching everywhere never stopped. Finger gripped hard enough to bruise, and Steve delighted in it, even knowing the marks would fade practically before they appeared.

            Then Steve threw his head back, a shocked agony of ecstasy coursing through him when fangs trailed down his neck, towards the heavy muscle of his shoulder, and bit deep. Cries of rapture spilled from his throat, his release sudden, shocking, and incredible, the waves of pleasure coursing through him unlike any he'd ever know. Had he the presence of mind to think, he'd wonder if this, _this_ was what Bucky had experienced every time. He'd beg Bucky to do this a million times over. Yet even his mind, capable of a thousand thoughts, could not produce one, when he was drowning in mindless pleasure, each strong pull of Bucky's mouth upon him sending another flood through him.

            At last, Bucky pulled away, rasping his tongue over the wound that was already healing. He stared down at it with a possessive satisfaction that the beast within Steve understood all too well. Before he returned to Steve's mouth once more, open and gasping, licking straight into it. Sharing the taste of Steve mingled with his own darker, yet sweeter flavor, and Steve felt his cock, which had just come so unexpectedly, harden even further.

            “Fuck, I've been wanting to do that,” Bucky whispered, the seduction of his voice a physical caress over Steve's trembling body. “You taste so good. So amazing. I don't want anything else - you're all I want Steve.” His words were both a demand and a plea, and Steve could do no more than let his head fall forward as he panted, thanking the stars that shined over his life for blessing him with a miracle so perfect as Bucky. Because Steve had never once considered that he physically _could_ give Bucky everything, as Bucky had previously tried to do for him.

            The vampire construct was one Steve had taken years to understand. It was a nearly magical entity, that was animated by no pumping heart. Yet blood still filled those veins, animated that body. However, unlike humans, vampires could not generate their own blood. So each time they drank from a human, the blood they consumed _became_ their own. Replacing what was used to keep them moving, keep them breathing. Keep them, in their own way, alive.

            Steve had never once considered it. Yet, it made a perfect sort of sense, that a vampire _could_ exist entirely from the blood he drank from another vampire. After all, if a vampire's blood could give a human eternal life, why then would it not also be capable of sustaining it? Whatever the mechanics of it, Steve didn't care. Nothing was relevant beyond the fact that he could provide Bucky with what he needed, by drinking from humans, then letting Bucky drink from him in turn.

            The beast inside of Steve was darkly delighted to be caring for his lover so completely. To say nothing of the agonizing delight he experienced each time Bucky, so seductively, yet so lovingly, bit him. And any lingering guilt he felt at taking from a human was gone. Because nothing could be _wrong_ , when it allowed him to provide for Bucky. Although, he had insisted firmly that in the future, Bucky waited until they were home. Not only to prevent an uncomfortable mess in his jeans, but because it was only seconds before he recovered enough to want to fuck Bucky into blissful incoherence. Sometimes Bucky listened to the firm command. Other times, he didn't. Which led to more than one semi-public, incredible, sexy as hell encounter, like the one Steve was gaining his breath back from tonight. Really, at the end of the day, Steve couldn't complain.

            So this adjustment to a new life had evolved in ways Steve could never have anticipated. But they'd made it through, together, and nothing made Steve happier than seeing the happiness Bucky showed, every night, waking up to him. Living with him, loving him, and falling asleep safe and sound in Steve's embrace.

            Yet neither of them had forgotten the horrific catalyst that had started their new life together. And neither had forgiven the monster who was responsible. Instead, they'd been carefully tracking the steps of Rumlow, who time had shown was clearly aware to some degree of the peril he was in, given the care he'd taken in never being alone and exposed. Yet Steve and Bucky could both be patient, Bucky's years as a sniper serving him in good stead. It taught him that when a target was in sight, you waited for the perfect shot. And this was one shot he would not risk throwing away with rage prodding him into a haste that could ruin all that he wanted to achieve. So, they'd waited.

            Clearly, long enough that Rumlow had relaxed, certain now that he'd escaped retribution. The vampire was cocky with his false relief. That was his last mistake. His first being hurting Steve in any way. If nothing else, Rumlow should have known - a human who could love a vampire, would live for him, or if need be, die for him. And he'd most certainly kill for him.

            Blinking as the very night in front of him seemed to part, leaving Natasha standing before him, Rumlow jerked back. A snarl upon his face. “What the fuck are you doing in my territory?” he demanded, even as he took a step back. His dark eyes looked for any sign of weakness. Something he wasn't sure the small female had - just one more reason to despise her. Another was the way she lifted one perfect brow, an expression of disdainful amusement on her face.

            “Interesting. Hearing you talking about territory - when you have no respect for someone else's.” Fuck. If she knew what he'd done, if she was on that fucking Rogers side... Calculating in an instant this was a fight he'd rather not have, Rumlow turned. Then stopped short when he saw the man who was her mate, standing far too close for comfort. There was nothing but boredom on his face, as he folded large arms over a chiseled chest. That vacant expression never changing when Rumlow glowered at him.

            “Get out of my fucking way,” Rumlow spat. Unwilling to acknowledge the dread the turned his insides to lead, yet unable to ignore it. Then he froze in the act of reaching to shove the sandy haired man out of the way, at the next words that split the dark.

            “What's the hurry?” Arms slowly dropping, Rumlow turned his head. He saw Steve slowly move into the flickering ring of light thrown down by the street lamp overhead. Illuminating a street that Rumlow saw now, with further disquiet, was completely devoid of life. Of witnesses, his mind hissed, before he shoved the thought away. Sheer bravado pulled the sneer on his features.

            “Rogers,” he spat. Hatred blurred the edges of his vision. For this man who had been a thorn his side one time too many. Fucker who thought he was _better_ than everyone else, when Rumlow knew the truth. Rogers was just too weak to take what any real vampire, real _man_ , knew was his right. Yet he'd had the audacity to try and enforce his pathetic code of conduct on Rumlow. Had dared _attack_ him, and the disrespect demanding revenge. The price of his interference so much more than the damage Rumlow had managed to do to his pathetic little human toy. Even _that_ had been ruined, Rogers arriving before Rumlow could complete what he started, before he could watch the inconsequential human die while staring at him with confusion, never knowing the reason his petty life was over. The insult of it was unacceptable.

            “You really think you can take me? No wonder you pulled together this group of fucking misfits. You know you could never take me alone.”

            At that, Rogers lifted a brow. Then, that fucker had to audacity to smile. And oh, Rumlow's sight went red at it. Hating everything about the man with a venom that scorched him from the inside.

            “Of course not. Rumlow, don't be foolish,” he added, with a mock sigh, and a sorrowful shake of his head. “I'm not here to take you on.” Surprise jolted through Rumlow at that, suspicion not easing in the slightest. Particularly when that smile spread, and there was nothing happy, nothing _human_ about it. “I'm here to watch.”

            Scowling, Rumlow's mouth opened. But whether it was to demand an explication, or spew forth more hate, no one would ever know. Because the softest sound cut through the silence, followed by a scream of pain, deafening and echoing through the street. Clutching at the arm that now dangled uselessly by his side, blood slowly trickling down to drip off his fingers to the pavement below, Rumlow jerked towards the man who held the gun fitted with a silencer, fingers caressing the trigger lovingly.

            Expression dark, Bucky watched as Rumlow let loose a truly inspiring string of profanities, before he gained enough sense to try and blur out of sight, dissolve into the dark. And found himself summarily tossed back by Clint, who was no longer looking so bored. “You really think you, a fucking newborn, can kill me?” Rumlow snarled, working his shoulder joint that was beginning to heal. With dispassionate eyes, Bucky smirked. Aimed carelessly, and shot him in the other shoulder. The resulting scream was music to his ears.

            When Rumlow made an enraged, mindless rush towards Bucky, Steve caught him effortlessly. Tossed him down to the pavement. Bucky's booted foot was instantly upon his chest, holding him easily in place when Rumlow could only claw at him ineffectually, neither arm functioning quite right yet. Aiming without even looking, Bucky shot both legs in quick succession. Then he leaned in closer, waiting for the agonized shrieks to die down so that his quiet voice would carry to Rumlow, and Rumlow alone.

            “What makes you think only a vampire would know how to kill? Too bad for you, I've made a career out of it. So you - you'll be nothing more than a face I don't remember, in a long string of lives I've taken.” Rumlow's breath crushed out of him when the boot pressed down harder, both of them hearing the splintering, sharp sound of ribs cracking. “You, you will _be_ nothing.”

            Seeing the hatred mixed with fear on the face of a monster, Bucky reveled in it. He wallowed in both the venom and fright he had caused. Delighted in knowing Rumow's last moments would be horrific, thanks to him. Because while a vampire could survive a gunshot wound nearly anywhere, it hurt them no less. And Bucky very much needed Rumlow to hurt. Aiming the pistol at his abdomen, Bucky saw the agony bloom in the monsters face as the trigger pulled, blood leaking from between lips that still tried to bite out useless threats. Possibly even plea's for mercy. Bucky didn't care. Because mercy was the one thing that didn't exist within him.

            Slowly aiming his gun at the one place that could _not_ heal, Bucky carefully, deliberately pressed it between Rumlow's eyes. Held that malicious gaze with his own. “This is for Steve.” Bucky pulled the trigger.

            Watching as Rumlow's body jerked at the force of the bullet burying itself inside his brain, before he fell completely still, Bucky's brows drew together. He looked up to the vastly more preferable view of Steve, and frowned. “I think I would have preferred a stake to the heart,” Bucky muttered, and had the delight of hearing Steve's laugh. Before he was pulled into those arms that were his safe place, and Steve buried his face in Bucky's neck, shaking from the torrent of emotions swirling through him. Fury. Sadness. And most of all, relief.

            “Fuck, I love you,” Steve breathed, every feeling gradually replaced with contentment with each stroke of Bucky's hand over his back, comforting and loving.

            “I love you too,” Bucky replied, making no effort to mask the adoration and devotion in his voice. Not wanting to hold a single thing back.

            Until he heard the throat clearing behind him, a noise he hadn't realized until this moment could be made sarcastically. “Well. This is heartwarming. But maybe you should, you know, take out the trash first?” Clint suggested, nudging Rumlow's body with a boot, disgust curling his lip. Rolling her eyes, Natasha smiled, the expression both warm, and genuine. Which came as a bit of a relief to Bucky, who still found her the most frightening being he'd ever met. Thank God she'd been on his side.

            “Don't worry, we can handle clean up,” she assured them. Natasha flicked Clint on the side of the head when he muttered petulantly “We can?” her smile growing in satisfaction at his resulting yelp. “Go, celebrate. Or whatever.”

            Needing no more prompting, Bucky pulled back enough to stare up into Steve's gorgeous eyes. Who looked back down at him, and nodded, lips curving. Taking Bucky's head, they turned as one. Both ready to move forward. Into whatever the future may hold. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sniffling* So, this is basically the last real chapter, I'd say the next will be more of an epilogue. Thank you, every one of you, my lovely readers, who have read, subscribed, bookmarked, given kudos, or commented on this story. I never would have come so far (or at the very least not this quickly) without all your support. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, going on this journey together means the world to me. As always, if you have liked what you read, hearing from you fills me with joy. :D


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. My lovely, wonderful, fantastic readers. Here we are. At the very end. I meet it with mixed emotions. I started writing this story precisely 3 months ago today... and now it's over. I hope you have enjoyed this story, because I've loved every moment of it! And, I hope you enjoy this last chapter. With no further ado I present Adrenalize Me Chapter 22.
> 
> Please note, this chapter earns the Switching Tag. If that is not for you, feel free to consider the last chapter as the end :)

Leaning against the wall, Bucky drank in the sight laid out before him. Like his happiest dream come to life. The apartment that had once been Steve's house, was now their home. The happy combination of Bucky and Steve's things, that together became “theirs”. His collection of Russian literature and comic books, mingled in with Steve's art and history volumes. His plants who had taken quite happily to the new space, which in his expert opinion had been severely lacking in the plant department. Thank goodness Steve had him, and his expert botany powers to bring life into the place.

            Best of all were the pictures, frames tucked between books and hanging on the walls amid Steve's incredible paintings and masterful pencil sketches. The photo of Steve and his Mom, finally displayed with pride on the mantel. Snap shots of their friends, Natasha and Clint mugging for the camera, Sam and Rylie captured mid laughter. And best of all, Bucky and Steve. Frozen moments of their lives together, a hundred memories that meant everything to Bucky.

            Straightening, Bucky moved on silent feet, until he stood behind Steve who sat at his desk, the gorgeous night view of the city spread before him. Yet Steve paid it no attention, instead focusing with utter concentration on the paper he was inking in with fine, fine detail, hands holding his pen with all the devotion of a lover, eyes caressing his masterpiece with a reverence that made Bucky's breath catch. Bucky stared down at the art that was bringing his own face to life, and felt nearly weak with the utter adoration so evident in the way Steve drew him. As though he could never do it often, or well enough.

            It had been a shocking revelation, and a wonderful one, to discover that a silent heart had even more capacity for love - more than Bucky could ever have comprehended when he'd been human. His heart had beat for Steve, and he'd loved the man more than he'd known was possible. Yet now, it was as though every part of his body belonged to Steve. Every cell delighted in waking up to see those beautiful eyes every single night. Every inch of him wanted to be only closer when they fell asleep tangled together the following morning. Each day of their lives together, Bucky only grew happier, until he didn't know how he could stand it.

            Bucky knew a tiny fragment of Steve had continued to wonder, quietly and fearfully if some day, Bucky would come to regret the choice he'd made. And yet, with Bucky's happiness only growing, he could see Steve's concern haunting him less and less. He hoped that one day, it would disappear altogether. Because Bucky knew what he wanted, and it would never change. Steve was his everything, his forever, until the end of the line.

            Feeling a shiver of heat sliding down his spine as he reflected on just how skillfully Steve took care of him, slowly taking him apart touch by dominating, adoring touch, Bucky knew no one could ever do for him what Steve did. The gorgeous, incredible man who worshiped Bucky with his hands, his mouth, his entire body, took him over until nothing existed but Steve, Bucky’s need to please Steve, and the unending pleasure Steve gave him in return. Yet tonight... he had other plans for his lover. Plans to show him that Bucky could prove every bit as adept at making Steve fall to pieces.

            Pressing his mouth to Steve's neck, Bucky smiled at the catch in Steve's breath, flicked his tongue out to taste skin and was gratified with a broken moan spilling from the blond's chest. Pen clattering to the table, Steve reached up and buried his hand in Bucky's soft tangle of hair, fingers tightening reflexively when Bucky skimmed even white teeth over the line of his shoulder. Before Steve tugged until those wicked lips met his own, and their tongues tangled, a gliding, delicious dance that he could never grow tired of. Pulling back only when they were both panting for breath, mirroring the smile that spread across Bucky's flawless face.

            “Hi baby. Was I ignoring you for too long?” Steve questioned, letting his hand skim down Bucky's body as the brunet straightened back up, until his fingers tucked into the waist of Bucky's jeans. A teasing inch from the heated length of Bucky's dick that already strained against the denim of his tight jeans. He saw Bucky's eyes darken in response, before his smile turned sly.

            “Perhaps. I think to really get your art perfect, you ought to spend more time with your subject.” At that, Steve was standing, giving Bucky a little tug until that incredible, muscled body collided with his own.

            “I think you're right. I really ought to look at, and touch what I'm drawing. Just to make sure I get it right,” Steve agreed, loving the way Bucky nodded solemnly, expression as innocent as an angel. Right before he talked Eve into the original sin. Because, _Jesus,_ Bucky could persuade Steve into anything, with a single wanting look from those awe-inspiring eyes, and single word from those sculpted, masterpiece lips.

            “Anything for your art,” Bucky breathed, enjoying the anticipation as Steve's mouth lowered towards his own. Before he moved in a blinding blur an instant before their lips would touch, and leaned against the wall once more, Steve's hand reaching out in surprise towards empty air. “But, I think a change of venue is appropriate. Want to make sure we're in the right lighting, for you to truly admire your muse.”

            Steve's gaze heated, tracing every motion when Bucky slowly grabbed the hem of his shirt, and tugged it over his head, leaving him in nothing more than dark skinny jeans that left no question about his desire, the shape of his cock outlined so perfectly by the tight fabric Steve felt his mouth watering to taste. To swallow Bucky down, and hear the helpless cries that were the sweetest music to his ears. Prowling towards his lover, Steve willingly took Bucky's offered hand, let himself be led towards their bedroom. Where he paused in the doorway, and felt the breath punch out of him once more.

            Candles covered every surface, hundreds of them flickering, the scent of warm wax heating the room. “Bucky,” Steve breathed, undone by the sheer romance of it. Turning to look into Bucky's face, he felt abruptly unsteady at what he saw there. Lust, consuming and heated. Love, though right now there was nothing soft about it. Instead, it was dark, challenging, and most erotic of all, possessive dominance was carved into those features.

            “I want you to take off all your clothes,” Bucky began, his voice a wicked seduction. “And then I want you to get on the bed. And then...” he trailed off, eyes slowly skimming down Steve's nearly shaking body, then back up again. To meet Steve’s eyes with a gaze that was pure demand.

            “And then?” Steve prompted, he own voice gone thready. Undone by the command in Bucky's tone, his reaction to it was unexpected and overwhelming.

            “And then-” Bucky continued, the smile on his face nothing soft or sweet. But rather one of confidence, that he would get everything he demanded, and more. And fuck, Steve would give it. His own constant need to give Bucky whatever he wanted instantly translating into a complete submission. Because if what Bucky wanted now was to take over - _Christ,_ Steve wanted nothing more than to be taken. “I'm going to do whatever I want. And you're going to let me.”

            Steve nearly swayed. Fuck. Yes, _yes_ he wanted that. Mouth parting wordlessly, he saw Bucky's eyes narrow, and realized he'd already been given an order. Steve started jerking his shirt off when he paused at the firm “Slowly,” his own body jerking at the tone that had his cock, already hard and aching, starting to leak. Breathing ragged, there was no hiding it when he pulled his shirt off, then with halting motions removed his jeans and boxer briefs, and stood there.

            Steve felt like he, impossibly, was the muse when Bucky's eyes lingered on him. He watched as Bucky bit at his blood red bottom lip, before nodding towards the bed. Holding back the urge to rush, because fuck, he wanted Bucky's hands on him, and _now_ , Steve kept his motions slow, deliberate, as he sank unto the mattress, and lay himself across it.

            “Good, baby, you're so good for me,” Bucky rasped, and _fuck_ , hearing that tone, those words of praise, that nickname that Bucky had never once used, it had Steve's cock, so hard and painful, jerking and leaking in a near constant stream onto his flexing abs, his own body tense to keep from pouncing on Bucky. From forcibly taking what he wanted. Steve could be good, and do what Bucky asked. It was the other side of the coin of giving Bucky what he needed. His mind blurred at the eroticism of his complete surrender - something Steve had never realized he could appreciate. Never wanted to give. Until Bucky.

            Smiling at the helpless haze he saw fogging Steve's sharp blue eyes, Bucky teasingly drew down the zipper of his jeans, adoring the way Steve's gaze traced the motion with complete focus. Bucky slowly pealed the denim down his strong legs, until he was as naked as Steve, sighing at the feel of the air, warm and caressing over his heated skin. Then he prowled forward, crawling over the gorgeous sprawl of Steve's body, and slowly lowered himself upon it.

            Both of them hissed at the intoxicating contact, Steve immediately arching so their dicks slid smoothly and delightfully along one another, hands grabbing to touch every inch of Bucky he could. Until Bucky grabbed his wrists and slammed them back down on the mattress. Bucky reveling in the fact he _could_ , the feat of strength one he only could have uselessly aspired to when he was human. Yet now, their power was evenly matched, and God, he wanted to use to in every pleasurable way he could. Watching as the muscles in Steve's arms flexed when he tugged weakly, ineffectually at the hold, Bucky nearly could have come alone from the ripple of power so evident in the exquisite body. And he was controlling it - fuck, no _wonder_ Steve got off so strongly from dominating Bucky so thoroughly. Mere moments in, and Bucky was nearly undone by the eroticism of it.

            Jaw clenching painfully until the very real need to come faded enough to regain control, Bucky leaned down, kissed those shining, plush lips again. “No touching,” he breathed, before licking deep once more, the taste of Steve more addictive than anything he'd ever known. “Can you do that for me sweetheart?” And _yes_ , the jolt that ran through Steve's beautiful body, that was precisely what he wanted.

            Finally managing to nod, Steve drank in the muscled weight of Bucky's body, as the other man began to kiss his way down Steve's frame, tongue tracing muscle, teeth pausing to scrape over a flat nipple, mouth sucking hard enough to mark skin that would heal far too quickly. Bucky tasted each tremble of Steve's body as the blond physically held himself down for the delicious torture that wasn't nearly enough.

            God, Bucky wondered again how he'd gotten so fortunate. To find someone he adored so much, and who was the physical embodiment of perfection. He just wanted to sink into Steve, be so deep inside him he could never leave. Yet first things first, he reminded himself, amused at his own impatience when Steve was visibly shaking for more. Slowly spreading powerful thighs, Bucky settled more comfortably between them, and then gave in to his own craving, and licked over the head of Steve's cock. Humming in satisfaction at the taste of him, and the bellowing shout Steve let out, those powerful hands shot up to grab the headboard instead of fisting in Bucky's hair the way they wanted to. Where Steve could hold Bucky as he fucked up into that glorious mouth.

            Letting Steve slide from his mouth, the sound obscenely wet and filthy, Bucky ran his tongue over his lips. He grinned at how Steve watched him with blurry eyes, pupils blown, expression completely wrecked. “God, Stevie, you're so amazing. Have I told you that today? You're so good, so perfect,” he praised, in between stamping open mouthed kisses over his hips. Loving the moans that turned into breathy whimpers, each one made his own dick twitch in impatient demand. Needing more, for both of them, Bucky rubbed his hands soothingly over Steve's legs. Before delicate fingers slid between them, gently skimming over Steve's hole. Bucky felt the resulting jerk Steve made, mouth falling open in shock.

            Softly circling, making no motion to press inside, Bucky pressed another kiss to Steve's skin. He waited until those blindly staring eyes met his gaze once more. “Yes?” he questioned, increasing the pressure the barest fraction, and saw the blue of Steve's eyes disappearing all together. The heat within them nearly setting Bucky on fire. Yet still he waited. Needing to know, despite his declarations of taking precisely what he wanted, that Steve wanted it too.

            Swallowing convulsively, Steve shook, absently concerned that without Bucky's hands to ground him, to hold him together, he might fly apart. “Sweetheart?” Bucky whispered.

            Steve managed to find enough air, enough sense to pant out, “Yes, yes please.” He felt the pleasure pouring off the other man, even as he continued his maddening circling. And fuck, Steve needed more. This intimacy was something he'd never experienced, never shared with anyone before.   Never wanted to. Never trusted anyone enough for it. Just one more way his life had altered, rotating around the new sun in his sky that was Bucky. Because now he wanted this, so much that he was grateful his heart no longer beat, certain as he was that the anticipation, the tension, the desire he felt in this moment would be enough to stop it altogether.

            Carefully slicking up his fingers, Bucky returned to his delicate, skimming touch. Drinking in the sight of Steve, who was so gorgeously defenseless and incredible, he could never get enough. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his own voice wrecked. Bucky shuddered when, as though only waiting for the command, a tumble of words spilled out of Steve, each more enticing that the last.

            “Jesus, Bucky, please, please, finger me, I want to feel you inside me, now, please,” Steve quavered out, mindless and desperate. Words cut off with a sharp gasp when Bucky at last, gave him what he wanted, and one slick, thick finger slid deep. “Fuck,” he sobbed, body flexing around the digit, the sensation foreign yet so incredible he needed _more_. No longer able to restrain the motions of his body, Steve’s hips jerked, an unintentional enticement that left Bucky's chest tight with want. Carefully sliding another finger in with the first, Bucky swore as Steve clenched powerfully on his before relaxing, opening up so beautifully it was a fucking miracle.

            “God, sweetheart, you're so amazing, so perfect, I can't believe how good you feel,” Bucky spoke, as he carefully stroked into Steve, who was fucking himself back onto Bucky's hand, moans staining the air. Jesus, Steve was so tight around him, so hot, Bucky just _knew_ fucking into him would destroy any control he had left. But not yet, not yet...

            “More, Bucky please,” Steve pleaded, the entire universe narrowed down to the feeling of Bucky _inside_ of him, caressing him with an intimacy that was devastating. Until Bucky added yet another finger. Carefully twisted. Then curled them, grazing over that place exactly right, and Steve was seeing stars. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned, both trying to crawl away, and pressed closer to those seeking fingers. He gasped when Bucky's free hand tightened over his hip painfully, holding him in place, as Bucky ruthlessly attacked his prostate, sending Steve flying.

            Vision blacking out entirely as he came, every muscle tensed with the force of Steve’s release, waves of pleasure so intense they edged on agony washing through him. He was too far gone to hear the way Bucky cursed at the glory of Steve coming, to see the way Bucky gripped the base of his own erection, harshly stemming his own responding orgasm. Bucky gritted through the pain of being denied once more, yet stroking Steve through every second of his pleasure until the blond lay, limp and motionless.

            Gently sliding his fingers free from the body that was still twitching around him in tiny after-shocks, Bucky crawled up Steve again, until he could press his mouth to Steve's. His lover was too exhausted in that moment to do more than let his mouth tip open, letting out weak moans that Bucky lovingly drank in as he licked into Steve's mouth, adoring everything about him so much it hurt.

            “Baby, you did so good, I'm so proud of you,” Bucky spoke in a litany of praises, remembering well how when Steve did the same for him, it was like sugar in his veins, sweet and addicting. He pressed soft, delicate kisses to Steve's shaking lips until the blond regained enough of himself to kiss back.

            “Bucky,” Steve breathed, blinking until he could bring the brunet's face into focus, basking in the love he saw there. Contentment, and a happiness so deep it was beyond exquisite in its intensity. Lifting a shaking hand, he tangled his fingers in Bucky's hair, tugging his lover closer so Steve could press his face into Bucky's neck. Steve simply breathed in the intoxicating scent, letting it fill his lungs, soak into his skin. Until Bucky shifted ever so slightly, and he felt Bucky's still achingly hard cock gliding over his skin, his own twitching in instinctive reaction. Arching into him, delighting in how Bucky's breath caught, Steve tugged him in for another kiss, all sweetness and delicacy gone. He felt Bucky move against him with more intention. And Steve knew exactly what he wanted.

            “Bucky, please,” he breathed, loving the power he felt when Bucky responded so sharply, so instantly to the needy thread of his voice. Blue gray eyes had gone hypnotically black. “I want you to fuck me.”

            Bucky shuddered, the breathy words feeding the flames that had simmered down as he'd cuddled his lover close, his own pleasure forgotten in the desire take care of Steve. But now, when Steve asked so prettily, fuck, Steve's pleasure _was_ his pleasure. The blond arched his hips, the glide of his dick, already heavy, hard and demanding again, sending any thoughts of hesitation far from Bucky's mind.

            “Anything, Stevie. Whatever you need,” Bucky swore, pressing his lips hectically to Steve's once more, jolting when Steve nipped at his bottom lip, the sharp bite of pain a delicious accent to the pleasure burning through him. Arching just enough so he could grab the bottle of lube and quickly rub slick over his cock, he felt Steve's breathing turn frantic when he angled the tip to press against the fluttering ring of muscle. Then slowly, inexorably, Bucky began to glide in.

            Steve threw his head back, eyes clenched against the sharp moment of pain that gave way to fucking _bliss_ , the sensation of Bucky's relentlessly sliding deeper inside of him indescribable. Incomparable. Hands fisting in the sheets, trying to anchor himself, Steve's eyes flew back open when Bucky took one hand in his own, the other coming around to hook over Steve's shoulder, using the leverage to pull Steve closer, until he was buried entirely within him.

            “Sweet Jesus,” Bucky panted, head tipping forward, his hold on his control a sweaty, tenuous grasp when Steve was flexing strongly around him. His body coaxed Bucky impossibly deeper, and he could only just hold himself still, giving Steve time to adjust.

            “Bucky. Oh my God, Bucky, you feel so incredible,” Steve gritted out, the ecstasy he saw in Bucky's face only heightening his own.   “Move, move, please you have to move,” he begged. Then he shouted when his words broke the brunet's control, and Bucky was fucking _moving_.

            Snapping his hips in sharp thrusts, Bucky groaned as Steve writhed beneath him, trying to meet every powerful surge of his cock. Maintaining the speed, until he could feel Steve's cock, trapped between them jerk, steadily leaking, adding to the mess of come that was still on his flexing abdomen. But no, Bucky wanted this to last. With no warning, and no mercy, Bucky slowed everything down, gradually drawing away until he was nearly out of the heaven that was Steve's body, flared head catching on the rim, before just as slowly pushing back in. The breath stuttered in Steve's chest, body racing to catch up to the change in sensation, which was even more intense and overwhelming. “Bucky, Bucky,” Steve sobbed, as though the name was the only word he knew. The only thing he could understand and hold onto, and God, Bucky never wanted to hear his name said any other way.

            “I've got you sweetheart,” he vowed, sweat beading over his skin, trailing down his spine as he continued the relentless, slow glide. His pace never faltering, until Steve was mindlessly begging beneath him. The blond jolted when Bucky slid completely out, flipped him over in a fraction of an instant, and then slid back in. Bucky’s powerful body blanketed Steve's, chest to his back, mouth tracing kisses over Steve's shoulder. And yes, Steve needed this, where there was no world beyond Bucky on him, in him, completely surrounding him.

            Angling his hips just so, Bucky knew he'd hit the mark when Steve bucked so fiercely he nearly threw Bucky off of him. And Bucky began to fuck into him with intention, nailing Steve's prostate with each sharp thrust. Steve's cries were nearly deafening as he grabbed the headboard.

            “Come for me baby, I want to feel you,” Bucky whispered in his ear, wondering if Steve was too far gone to hear him. Yet his words penetrated, and gorgeously, obediently, Steve erupted. Cock pulsing, Steve’s body clenched so fiercely around Bucky there was no holding back. Feeling his vision darken, Bucky shouted as he came, pouring himself into the flexing, demanding heat of Steve's body, only vaguely hearing the distressed sound of metal bending, then snapping all together. Collapsing heavily onto Steve, even as his hips still weakly thrust, chasing the orgasm that continued to send jolts of ecstasy through him.

            At last, both men were still, the only sound in the room their gradually slowing breathing. Until Bucky slowly pulled out of Steve's body, rubbing a soothing hand over Steve's back at the little pained whimper the blond made. Forcing his sluggish limbs to move quickly, Bucky grabbed a few warm, damp washcloths, jogging back so that Steve would not feel alone. And truthfully, not wanting Steve out of reach for more than a moment - even that feeling too long.

            Gently, Bucky wiped the sweat and come from the other man, before lovingly turning Steve onto him back, and cleaning off his front just as carefully. Quickly cleaning himself off with perfunctory motions, he tossed the wash clothes aside because, hell, he could deal with that later. Shuffling Steve away from the cooling mess on the sheets, grateful the bed was big enough they could avoid it till he had to energy to change them, Bucky wrapped Steve in his arms. Steve immediately sighing, cuddling even closer, his hands clutching at Bucky's back.

            Not tired, but content in a way he'd so rarely experienced before Steve, yet now experienced each night, Bucky sighed softly. He pressed a kiss to Steve's silky soft hair when he stirred ever so slightly. “I love you, you know that right?” Telling Steve once not enough. Bucky wanted to shower his lover each moment of each day with words of adoration. Yet even Bucky could admit that would be a bit much, possibly revert him to his “creepy stalker” days. Still, holding Steve in this perfect moment, there was no holding back.

            Blinking back tears, Steve wiggled up from where his head had been lying on Bucky's chest, until the men were level eye to eye. “I know.” And he did. It was incredible, some days incomprehensible. But Bucky somehow, amazingly, _really_ did. It was a gift Steve would never take for granted, yet had grown to accept was real. This, what they had together, was real. “I love you.” The simple words conveying a tangle of emotion he could never fully express. Gratitude, for Bucky showing Steve he was _worth_ something - in Bucky's eyes, worth everything. For showing him life was a beautiful thing, worth living. Wonder, that Bucky could give up his way of life, and start a whole new one, for Steve.

            Brushing Steve's lips with his own, Bucky suddenly smiled mischievously. “So. I can see why you like doing that.” He felt the surprised chuckle he startled out of Steve, and grinned wider.

            “Yeah, topping has it's perks,” Steve laughed. Perks like having Bucky helpless and begging beneath him. And as amazing as Bucky taking him over had been - and it really was, a-fucking-mazing, something Steve would want again and again - he knew his desire to take over the smaller male had in no way diminished. “Give me a couple minutes and I'll show you how it's really done.”

            Bucky's shout of laughter warming him from the inside out, Steve said a prayer of thanks to the God he knew _must_ be real, when he'd given him Bucky. “No rush. We've got all the time in the world,” Bucky replied. Touching that gorgeous smile with his own, Steve basked in that beautiful truth. They really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crying happy tears* Ah, I love these two with a deep and fiery passion. Thank you all for your dedication to this story, and for your encouragement. You're awesome! Perhaps, this isn't the last we've seen of Vampire Steve and Bucky... *giving a squinty eye at everyone who requested a sequel* As always - you know the drill. If you've enjoyed this, I would most especially love to hear from you on this last chapter!


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